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COMMITTEE OF ARRANGEMENTS 



AITOIXTED BY THE 



®0mm0!t C0uncil af tlje Citij af Hew ijark, 



TO RENDER A SUITABLE 



TRIBUTE OF RESPECT 



TO THE JIE.MOItY OF THE 



HON. DANIEL WEBSTER, 



LATE SECRETARY OE STATE OE THE EXITED STATES. 



NEW YORK: 

McSPEDON & BAKER, PRINTERS. 
1853. 




BOARD OF ALDERMEN 



JULY, 185! 



BY ALDERMAN THOMAS J. BARR. 

Resolved, That the Clerk of the Common Council cause 
to be published, in an appropriate manner, the Keport of 
the Special Committee on the Obsequies of the Hon. 
Daniel Webster, late Secretary of State in the United 
States. 

D. T. VALENTINE, 

CLERK. 




REPORT. 



The Joint Special Committee of the Common 
Council of the city of New York, appointed to 
make and complete arrangements for rendering 
a suitable tribute of respect to the memory of the 
Hon. Daniel Webster, late Secretary of State in 
the government of the United States, respectfully 
present the following 

REPORT 

Of the events consequent upon the demise of that 
illustrious statesman, together with a detailed state- 
ment of their acts in connection with that solemn 
occasion. 

Your Committee, forcibly impressed with a 
deep sensibility of the great and irreparable loss 
the nation, and, we may truly add, the whole 
world, have sustained, feel themselves inadequate 
to pronounce a fitting eulogium upon the character 
and services of the mighty man, for whom, in 

5 







the general sorrow and bereavement, the united 
hearts of millions swell and throb with sympathetic 
emotions. Yet we are sensible of the high respon* 
sibility devolving upon us, and, in justice to that 
principle which should at all times actuate men to 
purposes of high resolve, we have endeavored to 
render a sincere and heartfelt tribute of affection 
to the man who has stamped the world with the 
impress of his brilliant genius, and who has de- 
parted forever from the scenes of his labors, his 
toils and his usefulness. 

" The custom of honoring great public benefac- 
tors by solemn observances, is natural, just and 
wise ; but the tributes and testimonials which we 
offer to departed worth, are for the living, and not 
for the dead. Eulogies, monuments and statues 
can add nothing to the peace and joy of that 
serene sphere, into which the great and good, who 
have finished their earthly career, have passed. 
But these expressions and memorials do good to 
those from whom they flow. They lift us above 
the region of low cares and selfish struggles. They 
link the present to the past, and the world of 
sense to the world of thought. They break the 
common course of life with feelings brought from 
a higher region." These are profound medita- 
tions, and they are particularly applicable to an 
occasion like this, when we should pause for an 

6 




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TO.? 



interval from, the cares and thoughts of business, 
to consecrate the hour that consigns the name and 
the actions of the great "Defender of the Union 
and the Constitution" to the records of human 
history. It is meet and proper that the events of 
a brilliant and glorious day, redolent of mighty 
achievements, after the dark clouds of the storm 
have suddenly overcast its ethereal brightness, 
should be strongly marked upon the pages of our 
country's history. 

Your Committee, desirous of rendering a per- 
manent and useful value to their report, are confi- 
dent that a judicious selection of the eloquent 
eulogiums delivered from the pulpit; by the learned 
members of the bar ; in colleges,* legislative halls, 
societies and associations, upon this melancholy 
occasion, in various parts of the country, but more 
particularly of those pronounced in this city, will 
establish the best manifestation of the deep and 
abiding veneration in which Daniel Webster was 
held by his countrymen, and transmit to posterity 
a glowing and useful page, to encourage and 
stimulate to deeds of honor and greatness the 
youth of the present generation, as well as those 
of the future. 







sin 




Hlaniel itlcbster 

DIED 
AT MARSHFIELD, PLYMOUTH COUNTY, MASS., 

©ofobel- 2-MI), 1852, 

IN THE SEVENTY-FIRST TEAR OF HIS AGE. 

He passed the barriers of time into the dark 
"valley of the shadow of death," as gliding into 
a natural and refreshing slumber — so that it was 
difficult to determine the precise moment of his 
death. 

"He died, as the heart hopes to die, in his own 
home, amid those scenes of natural beauty en- 
deared to him by the joys and sorrows of many 
eventful years, with the faces of family, kindred 
and friends around his bed, and religion pillowing 
his head. He died full of years and full of honor, 
with no duty unperformed, and no trust undis- 
charged ; he died by no lingering and painful 
decay, making him dead while yet living ; he died 
with all his glorious faculties unimpaired, and this 
great orb, which had so long guided and cheered 
us with its light, sunk below the horizon, undimed 
by a single cloud." 






3nnounmnent of the Cl c a t h in He to gjorrk. 

Notwithstanding each succeeding bulletin from 
Marshfield prepared the mind for the approaching 
national loss — that the mortal career of Mr. Web- 
ster was fast drawing to a final close — yet thou- 
sands of our citizens hoped against hope, and 
prayed that he would recover. About nine o'clock 
in the forenoon, the melancholy intelligence of his 
demise was announced in this city ; the sad news 
was speedily circulated, and it appeared as if the 
' Angel of death had spread his wings upon the 
blast, 7 ' Flags were unfurled at half-mast from the 
public buildings, hotels, and among the shipping. 
Funereal draperies were suspended from the win- 
dows and balconies of hotels and many private 
dwellings. As evening approached, nothing was 
heard, as topics of conversation, except the recip- 
rocating sympathy for the immense bereavement 
we have sustained ; preparations for general 
mourning, and the question, how the mighty loss 
to the Constitution by Mr. Webster's death could 
be restored. In many of the churches where the 
sad news had reached, ministers of the o- spel 
made eloquent and touching allusions to his de- 
parture. ,The solemnity of the Sabbath was in- 
creased by the sorrow of the people, and New 
York mourned the death of the mighty man with 
an intense and deep grief. 



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DmnMngs 0f tin €ammm tannL 



BOARD OF ALDERMEN, 



OCTOBER So, 185S. 



Present— Richard T. Compton, Esq., President ; Abra- 
ham Moore, Dudley Haley, Oscar W. Sturtevant, Jacob 
F. Oakley, John Boyce, Thomas J. Barr, William M. 
Tweed, William J. Brisley, Charles Francis, Wesley 
Smith, John Pearsall, James M. Bard, Sylvester L. H. 
Ward, Asahel A. Denman, William H. Cornell, Alonzo 
A. Alvord, John Doherty, William J. Peck. 

The following communication was received from his 
Honor the Mayor, viz : 

Mayor's Office, 
' October 25, 1852, 
To the Honorable Common Council : 

Gentlemen : — The mournful intelligence has spread 
throughout the land that Daniel Webster— the Orator- 
the Patriot— the Statesman— unrivalled in any country or 
in any age — is no more. 

The death of such a man is a national calamity, and his 
decease will be mourned with a sincerity which is but a 
merited tribute to his worth and services. 

10 



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Daniel Webster needs no eulogy from me, and I shall 
not attempt any ; his history is written on the annals of 
our country, in letters which can never be effaced— his 
memory is embalmed in the hearts of his grateful country- 
men. 

I communicate this painful information to you officially, 
to the end that such steps may be taken, as will at once 
mark our appreciation of his exalted worth and services— 
our grief at the loss which we, in common with the whole 
country, have sustained. 

A. C. KINGSLAND, Mayor. 

Whereupon, Thomas J. Barr, Alderman of the Sixth 
Ward, presented the following preamble and resolution, 
viz : 

Whereas, It has pleased Almighty God to remove from 
this life, Daniel Webster, late Secretary of State, and 

Whereas, This eminent statesman, for the last forty 
years, has, in the council and cabinet of the nation, ren- 
dered services of unequalled devotion and patriotism to 
preserve the Constitution of our confederacy, to perpetuate 
the blessings of our Union, and to defend the honor and 
dignity of our country, untarnished, at home and abroad ; 
and whose transcendent genius and talent have served to 
elevate our country to its present proud position among 
the nations of the earth, shedding the brightest lustre upon 
our past history, and inspiring the most ardent hopes for 
our future destiny ; and 

Whereas, This Board, sharing the general sorrow which 
this melancholy event inspires, is desirous of evincing its 
sensibility at the loss ; therefore, be it 

n 










Resolved, That a Committee of seven be appointed on 
the part of this Board, to unite with a like Committee of 
the Board of Assistants, to take such measures as may be 
necessary to manifest the respect and admiration of the 
city of New York for the memory of the illustrious de- 
ceased, and to make the necessary arrangements for that 
purpose. 

Whereupon John Boyce, Alderman of the Fifth Ward, 
seconded the resolution, and, in doing so, made the follow- 
ing remarks : 

Mr. President : — I rise to second the motion : in doino- 

& 

so, I do not intend to trouble you with any unnecessary 
remarks, for what has already been said, and much that 
has been published in all of the newspapers of the day, 
leaves nothing for me to say, without repeating what has 
already been well said ; but I desire to bear my feeble 
testimony to the unsurpassed worth and services of the 
great statesman, whose death the people of this great 
nation, from length to breadth, without distinction of 
party, are called upon to mourn, and I have no doubt but 
sadness now pervades every intelligent and enlightened 
mind throughout our whole country, where this melan- 
choly event has been made known. I am free to say, none 
among our distinguished and lamented statesmen who 
have preceded him in their demise, had stronger claims 
upon the ajfection and respect of their countrymen, than 
has Daniel Webster— his distinguished public services— 
his pre-eminent abilities and patriotism, when living, 
forced a respect from all, such as could be created only by a 
master mind like his. Now that he is gone, it is proper and 
it is right that this Common Council— the people of this 

12 





great and wealthy city, and the inhabitants of this happy 
land, should arise, one and all, and show every testimony of 
respect to the memory of the greatest statesman of the 
age, who has contributed more than any other to a correct 
understanding of our constitutional compact, and the per- 
petuity of our glorious institutions. 

Asahel A. Denmax, Alderman of the Sixteenth Ward, 
made the following remarks : 

Mr. Peesident : — I sometimes think it unfortunate that 
I am not a professional speaker, so that I might be enabled 
to bear testimony to the valuable services of those of our 
great men who have, by the dispensation of Almighty 
God, been called from the active scenes of life ; and 
particularly on this occasion it would afford me a melan- 
choly pleasure to be enabled to pay a passing tribute 
to the memory of the illustrious deceased. He had all the 
attributes of a great statesman — his works will substan- 
tiate that, and we may say, to-night, that a great man 
has departed, and, in the language of one of old. " Truly a 
great man has fallen in Israel. " ? 

I hope that the Committee appointed will make such a 
demonstration as will be worthy of the city of New York, 
and of the departed statesman. 

The resolution was then unanimously adopted, and the 
President appointed Aldermen Bare, Peck, Oakley, 
Mooee, Denman, Boyce and Stuetevant as such Com- 
mittee, on the part of this Board. 

And the same was directed to be sent to the Board of 
Assistants for concurrence. 

On motion, the Board adjourned. 

13 

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BOARD OF ASSISTANT ALDERMEN, 



OCTOBER 35, 1853. 



Present — Jonathan Trotter, Esq., President, in the chair ; 
Assistant Aldermen Brown, Tait, Mabbatt, O'Brien, 
Rodman, Broaden, Woodward, Wells, Anderson, Bouton, 
McGown, Wright, Wheelan, Barker, Rogers and 
McConkey. 

Assistant Alderman Barker presented the following 
resolutions : 

Resolved, That this Board receives with profound regret 
the intelligence of the death of the Hon. Daniel Webster, 
the last of that great triumvirate of American statesmen, 
who, having adorned for more than a quarter of a century 
the history of their country, have, within so short a period, 
been gathered to the tomb. 

Resolved, That our feelings of grief at his loss are in 
some degree assuaged by the pride which we feel as his 
compatriots, when we reflect that to him this age has pro- 
duced few equals, and no superiors as an orator, a lawyer, 
or a statesman. 

Resolved, That whatever difference of political opinion 
may have existed at times between him and portions of 
his countrymen, all must acknowledge the debt of grati- 
tude which his country owes to the illustrious deceased, 
for innumerable services rendered in the Senate, and in 
the Cabinet, for the highest and most successful efforts of 
diplomacy, and for defences of the Constitution and the 
Union, on many well-remembered occasions, which no one 
ever excelled, or perhaps has equalled. 

14 





Mr. Barker addressed the Board, and said : 

Mr. President :— The business of this Board has been 
suspended for the purpose of showing our respect to the 
memory of that great statesman who is now numbered 
with the dead. Soon, soon, sir, has he followed to his 
final rest the lamented Henry Clay. Scarcely have the 
emblems of mourning, placed around this chamber 
been removed, when we are told that the arrow of the 
angel of death has pierced another shining mark. Cal- 
houn, Clay and Webster, who have, for nearly half a 
century past, been the pride and ornament of the nation, 
in the House of Representatives, in the Senate, and in the 
councils of the nation, have now passed from amongst us 
forever. The loss of Daniel Webster, in his high position 
as Secretary of State of the United States, will be severely 
felt, and the news of his death has caused an intense feel- 
ing of sorrow in this great commercial metropolis, and 
throughout this wide extended land. In every situation 
in which he has been placed, he has nobly vindicated the 
honor and interests of his country, as well in our own 
affairs as in our intercourse with the other nations of the 
earth. With the lamented Clay, he added his great and 
unwearied efforts in sustaining, upholding and perfecting 
that compromise which has again made us a united and 
happy people. He was for the Union, the whole Union, 
and nothing but the Union. He never recognized any 
section of this Republic, but his gigantic efforts were for 
this Union, one and undivided. I will not attempt, sir, to 
add any further remarks upon the services of him whose 
life was entirely devoted to his country : it is unnecessary 
to repeat them here— they are all familiar to each and 
every member of this Board. I could not, sir, had I all 

15 




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the power of language, add one particle to his fame ; his 
country's history will record his patriotism and devotion, 
in letters never to be erased. It is fit and becoming, there- 
fore, for us, as the representatives of this great city, that 
we should unite in paying our last tribute of respect to the 
memory of a man so distinguished in this nation. 

I would move, further, Mr. President, that a committee 
of three of this Board be appointed to confer with a com- 
mittee of the Board of Aldermen, hereafter, whenever it is 
ascertained that the funeral will take place, in order to 
offer a further testimony of respect to the illustrious de- 
parted. 

The resolutions being unanimously carried, the Presi- 
dent appointed Messrs. Barker, Wheelan and Wells 
as such Committee. 

On motion, the Board adjourned. 



BOARD OF SUPERVISORS, 

OCTOBER 85, 1852. 

At the meeting of the Board this evening, Alderman 
Denman moved, as an act of respect to the memory of the 
distinguished statesman, Daniel Webster, whose decease 
every American who admires genius must deplore, that 
this Board adjourn without transacting any business. 

His Honor the Recorder, said that it was a becoming 
tribute to the memory of that great man, the lustre of 
whose name has been shed, not only over this nation, but 
throughout all others, and would descend to posterity, and 
be admired among them. 

The Board then adjourned. 

16 



»i..u»mi«t»iiiji.n,—B~-i—^>».iii. 



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The President of the United States, upon the 
day succeeding the death of Mr. Webster, issued 
the following letter to the Heads of Departments 
of the National Government, recommending appro- 
priate measures to be adopted in connection with 
that melancholy event : 

Executive Mansion, Washington, 
Monday Morning, Oct. 25, 1852. 

Gentlemen : — The painful intelligence received yester- 
day, enforces upon me the sad duty of announcing to the 
Executive Departments the death of the Secretary of 
State. Daniel Webster died at Marshfield, in Massa- 
chusetts, on Sunday, the 24th of October, between two and 
three o'clock in the morning. 

Whilst this irreparable loss brings its natural sorrow to 
every American heart, and will be heard far beyond our 
borders with mournful respect, wherever civilization has 
nurtured men who find in transcendent intellect and faith- 
ful patriotic service a theme for praise, it will visit with 
still more poignant emotion his colleagues in the adminis- 
tration, with whom his relations have been so intimate 
and so cordial. 

The fame of our illustrious statesman belongs to his 
country — the admiration of it to the world. The record 
of his wisdom will inform future generations, not less than 
its utterance has enlightened the present. He has be- 
queathed to posterity the richest fruits of the experience 
and judgment of a great mind, conversant with the greatest 
national concerns. In these his memory will endure as 
long as our country shall continue to be the home and 
guardian of freemen. 



L. 



17 








The people will share with the Executive Departments 
in the common grief which bewails his departure from 
amongst us. 

In the expression of individual regret at this afflicting 
event, the Executive Departments of the government will 
be careful to manifest every observance of honor which 
custom has established as appropriate to the memory of 
one so eminent as a public functionary, and so distinguished 
as a citizen. 

The Acting Secretary of State will communicate this sad 
intelligence to the diplomatic corps near this government, 
and through our Ministers abroad to foreign governments. 

The members of the Cabinet are requested, as a further 
testimony of respect for the deceased, to wear the usual 
badges of mourning for thirty days. 

I am, gentlemen, your obedient servant, 

MILLARD FILLMORE. 

To the Acting Secretary of State, and the Secretaries of the Treasury 
Interior, War, Navy, the Attorney General and Postmaster General. 

In pursuance of Mr. Fillmore's instruction, 
orders were issued to close the various depart- 
ments for the day. The buildings in which the 
business of the different bureaux is conducted were 
hung in mourning, and in the State Department 
the officers were recommended to wear the usual 
badge of mourning for thirty days. 




18 





Your Committee, unwilling to permit any sub- 
ject of interest, connected with the death of Mr. 
Webster, to pass unnoticed, have compiled from 
reliable sources, a brief but interesting history of 
the solemn and beautiful 






tuner it I (ic anionics at juarsKieli). 



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In conformity with the wish expressed in Mr. 
Webster's will, every thing was arranged with the 
utmost simplicity, in the order usual in a New 
England funeral — private it could not be. In 
addition to the general sense of loss in the removal 
of a great leader and a statesman, in whose wisdom 
and firmness so strong a confidence was reposed, 
there was in many hearts a feeling of personal 
bereavement in the death of a revered and beloved 
friend ; and thus thousands were led to the spot 
by a wish to honor his memory and look once 
more upon his face. From all quarters, by every 
path, and by every conveyance, great multitudes 
came together ; and the whole number of persons 
assembled at the hour of noon was. probably, not 
less than ten or twelve thousand. 

It was a clear, cloudless, autumnal day — the sun 
alone gava a cheerful aspect to nature — grief was 

19 



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— »■ 



— ~> v rs; 

- i ? 






firmly and inseparably fixed upon every counte- 
nance, and seemed sensible of a common loss, and 
none of all that mighty concourse was the silent 
melancholy that absorbs the soul — an "eloquent 
testimonial " — so unmistakably apparent as of the 
men and women of Marshfield — his old and de- 
voted neighbors. Minute guns were fired from 
sunrise to sunset ; the church bells were tolled, 
their deep-toned sound adding a doleful solemnity 
to the general sorrow. 

In addition to the thousands that had journeyed 
to that lonely spot, made desolate by the absence 
of its gifted proprietor, were representatives from 
the government of Massachusetts ; members of the 
bar, of civic, military and political associations ; 
the clergy of Boston and other parts of the State ; 
delegations from the bar, political and civic socie- 
ties of New York, Philadelphia, Albany, Connec- 
ticut, Vermont, IS T ew Hampshire, Maine, and almost 
every State in the Union was there represented. 

At twelve o'clock, the religious services were 
commenced by the Rev. Ebenezer Alden, pastor 
of the Congregational Church in South Marshfield, 
where Mr. Webster had been accustomed to at- 
tend public worship. 

The vast multitude stood uncovered, and silently 
joined in the impressive funeral services. 

20 














Mr. Alden commenced by reading an appro- 
priate extract from the Bible ; after which he pro- 
nounced, with great feeling, the following 

ADDRESS. 

On an occasion like the present, a multitude of words 
were worse than idle. Standing- before that majestic 
form, it becomes ordinary men to keep silence. He beino- 
dead, yet sleepeth. In the words he applied to Washing- 
ton, in the last great public discourse he ever delivered, 
" the whole atmosphere is redolent of his name. Hills 
and forests, rocks and rivers, echo and re-echo his praises." 
All the good, whether learned or unlearned, high or low, 
rich or poor, feel this day that there is oue treasure com- 
mon to them all, and that is the fame and character of 
Webster. They recount his deeds, ponder over his princi- 
ples and teachings, and resolve to be more and more guided 
by them in future. Americans by birth are proud of his 
character, and exiles from foreign shores are eager to parti- 
cipate in admiration of him ; and it is true that he is this 
day here, everywhere, more an object of love and regard 
than on any day since his birth. And while the world, too 
prone to worship mere intellect, laments that the orator and 
statesman is no more, we enter on more sacred ground, 
and dwell upon the example and counsels of a Christian, 
as a husband, father and friend. I trust it will be no rude 
wounding of the spirit — no intrusion upon the privacy of 
domestic life — to allude to a few circumstances in the last 
scenes of the mortal existence of the great man who is 
gone, fitted to administer Christian consolation, and to 
guide to a better acquaintance with that religion which is 
adapted both to temper our grief and establish our hope. 

21 



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Those who were present on the morning of the Sabbath 
upon which this head of a family conducted the worship 
of his household, will never forget, as he read from our 
Lord's sermon on the Mount, the emphasis which he alone 
was capable of giving to that passage which speaks of the 
divine nature of forgiveness. They saw beaming from 
that eye, now closed in death, the Spirit of Him who first 
uttered that god-like sentiment. And he who, by the 
direction of the dying man, upon a subsequent morning of 
the day of rest, read in their connection these words — 
" Lord, I believe, help thou my unbelief;" — and then the 
closing chapter of our Savior's last words to his disciples, 
being particularly requested to dwell upon this clause of 
the verse — " Holy Father, keep through thine own name, 
those whom thou hast given me, that they may be one as 
we are," — behold a sublime illustration of the indwelling 
and abiding power of Christian faith ! 

And if these tender remembrances only cause our tears 
to flow more freely, it may not be improper for us to pre- 
sent the example of the father, when his great heart was 
rent by the loss of a daughter, whom he most dearly loved. 
Those present on that occasion well remember, when the 



struggle of mortal agony was over. 



retiring 



from the 



presence of the dead, bowing together before the presence 
of God, and joining with the afflicted father, as he poured 
forth his soul, pleading for grace and strength from on 
high. As upon the morning of his death, we conversed 
upon the evident fact that for the last few weeks his mind 
had been engaged in preparation for an exchange of 
worlds, one who knew him, well remarked : " His whole 
life has been that preparation." The people of this rural 
neighborhood, among whom he spent the last twenty years 

■M0 





of his life, among whom he died, and with whom he is to 
rest, have been accustomed to regard him with mingled 
veneration and love. Those who knew him best can the 
most truly appreciate the lessons, both from his lips and 
example, teaching the sustaining power of the Gospel. 

His last words — " I still live," — we may interpret in 
a higher sense than that in which they are usually re- 
garded. He has taught us how to attain the life of faith 
and the life to come. Vividly impressed upon the memory 
of the speaker is the instruction once received as to the 
fitting way of presenting divine truth from the sacred 
desk. Would that its force might be felt by those who 
are called to minister in divine things. Said Mr. Web- 
ster — " When I attend upon the preaching of the Gospel, 
I .wish to have it made a personal matter — a personal 
ma lter — a personal matter I" It is to present him as 
enforcing these divine lessons of wisdom and consolation, 
that we have recalled to your minds these precious recol- 
lections. And we need utter no apology : indeed, we 
should be inexcusable in letting the present opportunity 
pass without unveiling the inner sanctuary of the life of 
the foremost man of all this world ; for his most intimate 
friends are well aware that he had it in mind to pre- 
pare a work upon the internal evidences of Christianity, 
as a testimony of his heart-felt conviction of the " divine 
reality " of the Gospel of Jesus Christ. But finding him- 
self rapidly approaching those august scenes of immortality 
into which he had so often looked, he dictated the most 
important part of his epitaph. And so long as " the rock 
shall guard his rest, and the ocean sound his dirge,' 
world shall read on his monument, not only — 

One of the few, the immortal names, 
That were not born to die ; 
23 




-:Q^l4^ 




but also that Daniel Webster lived and died in the] 
Christian faith. The delineation which he gave of one of I 
his early and noble compeers, could never have beenj 
written except from an experimental acquaintance with 
that which he holds up as the chief excellence of his friend. 
This description we shall apply to himself, trusting that it 
will be as well understood as admired. 

Political eminence and professional fame fade away and 
die with all things earthly. Nothing of character is really 
permanent but virtue and personal worth. These remain. 
Whatever of excellence is wrought into the soul itself, be- 
longs to both worlds. Real goodness does not attach itself 
merely to this life — it points to another world. Political 
or professional reputation cannot last forever ; but a con- 
science void of offence before God and man, is an inherit- 
ance for eternity. Religion, therefore, is a necessary and 
indispensable element in any great human character. 
There is no living without it. Religion is the tie that 
connects man with his Creator, and holds him to His 
throne. If that tie be all sundered, all broken, he floats 
away, a worthless atom in the universe ; its proper attrac" 
tions all gone, its destiny thwarted, and its whole future 
nothing but darkness, desolation and death. A man with 
no sense of religious duty is he whom the Scriptures de- 
scribe in such terse, but terrific language, as "living with- 
out God in the world." Such a man is out of his proper 
being — ou t of the circle of all his duties—out of the circle 
of all his happiness, and away, far, far away, from the 
purposes of his creation. 

A mind like Mr. Webster's— active, thoughtful, pene- 
trating, sedate — could not but meditate deeply on the con- 
dition of man below, and feel its responsibilities. He could 

not look on this mighty system, 

•21 




This universal frame, thus wondrous fair. 



without feeling that it was created and upheld by an In- 
telligence, to which all other intelligence must be respon- 
sible. I am bound to say, that in the course of my life, I 
never met with an individual, in any profession or condi- 
tion, who always spoke, and always thought, with such 
awful reverence of the power and presence of God. No 
irreverence, no lightness, even no too familiar allusions to 
God and his attributes, ever escaped his lips. The very 
notion of a Supreme Being was, with him, made up of awe 
and solemnity. It filled the whole of his great mind with 
the strongest emotions. A man like him, with all his pro- 
per sentiments and sensibilities alive in him, must, in this 
state of existence, have something to believe, and some- 
thing to hope for ; or else, as life is advancing to its close, 
all is heart-sinking and oppression. Depend upon it, 
whatever may be the mind of an old man, old age is only 
really happy when, on feeling the enjoyments of his woe of 
this world pass away, it begins to lay a stronger hold on 
the realities of another. Mr. Webster's religious senti- 
ments and feelings were the crowning glories of his cha- 
racter. 

The address was followed by a prayer, and, after 
a few moments pause, the sad proeession, all on 
foot, unheralded by official pomp, military display, 
or even the strains of mournful music, moved 
slowly and reverentially along the silent path lead- 
ing to the unpretending tomb. Upon the arrival 
of the honored relics of our national benefactor, 
at the entrance of the sepulchre, it was rested upon 

9S 



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c 






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M*tii£fi^fc> 



I! 



iis 






the bosom of its gentle mother earth. It was 
once more uncovered, that the relatives and friends 
might again, and for the last time, look upon that 
majestic countenance ; a fervent, eloquent and 
grateful prayer was offered to the Throne of 
Grace, earnestly supplicating the Divine protec- 
tion to the perpetuity of our happy confederation, 
and its prosperous institutions and people. The 
body was then placed in the tomb, and slowly and 
sadly, relative, friend and stranger passed away, 
and left the illustrious sleeper with those whom he 
had so tenderly loved in life, and with whom 
death had now re-united him forever. 

"fyrf 1i)w— ii)£i v e> is no ptoqdef foh)b.'" 



The Joint Special Committee held their first 
meeting on the 27th inst., to deliberate upon the. 
most befitting mode of manifesting the respect 
entertained for the memory of Mr. Webster by 
the people of this city, and of giving expression to 
the national sorrow. The Committee, after being 
duly organized, prepared and ordered to be pub- 
lished in the public papers of the day, the follow- 
ing preamble and resolutions, in relation to the 
funeral ceremonies at Marshfield, on the 29th of 
October, and the celebration of the obsequies in 
this city, on the 16th of November : 



1 1 Ha 

r 



26 



--f^£^~4SS5iBg=Si^tl^ 




Obsequies nf fan. ganul Mcbsttr, 

LATE SECRETARY OF STATE. 

At a meeting of the Special Committee of both Boards 
of the Common Council, held on Tuesday, 27 th inst., at 
the City Hall, the following preamble and resolutions 
were adopted, and ordered to be published in the several 
public papers : 

Whereas, It is announced that the funeral of Daniel 
Webster, the late Secretary of State of the United States, 
will take place in Marshfield, on Friday, the 29th inst.; 
therefore, it is 

Resolved, That our fellow citizens be requested to close 
their stores and places of business on that day, from the 
hour of 12, at noon, until sunset, and. also all places of 
public amusement, in the evening of said day. 

Resolved, That the bells of the several churches, and the 
fire alarm bells, be tolled from noon till 2 o'clock p. m., 
and that seventy minute guns (being the age of the late 
Secretary,) be fired from the Battery. 

Resolved, That the owners and masters of vessels in the 
harbor, and the proprietors of all public places in the city, 
be requested to display their flags at half-mast during the 
whole day, and that our fellow citizens be also requested 
to wear the usual badge of mourning for thirty days. 

Resolved, That Tuesday, the 16th of November, be set 
apart for the obsequies of the late Hon. Daniel Webster, 
in this city. 

COMMITTEES : 

I! OARD OK ALDER 31 K N . 




Thomas J. Barr, 
0. W. Sturtevant, 
A. A. Denman, 
John Boyce, 



27 



Jacob F. Oakley, 
William J. Peck, 
Abraham Moore, 
R. T. Compton, President. 



J 




IP 






Isaac 0. Barker, 
Joseph Rogers, 
Samuel R. Mabbatt 
Edwin Bouton, 



Josiah W. Brown, 
Thomas Wheelan, 
Helmus M. Wells, 
Jonathan Trotter, Pres't. 



N. B. — Persons having charge of the several church 
bells, will please comply with the above request, without 
further notice. 

The day appointed for the funeral ceremonies of 
Daniel Webster, at Marshfield, was most solemnly 
and generally observed in this city. In every part 
of the city, upon public and private buildings, 
could be seen the sombre testimonials that betoken 
the truth of man's dissolution of this earthly taber- 
nacle. Flags at half-mast (many of them heavily 
draped in black,) were streaming from every flag- 
staff, and among the shipping of every nation that 
lay in our harbor. Banners, prepared with inscrip- 
tions and dressed in mourning, were extended 
across the streets. The mourning draperies upon 
many of the buildings, public and private, w T ere 
rich, elaborate, and tasteful. As the hour of 
twelve approached, a gradual cessation of business 
was observable, and at mid-clay nearly all the 
places of business in the city were closed. 

The Veteran corps of heavy artillery w r ere 
stationed on the Battery, with two pieces of 
ordinance, where they fired seventy discharges, 
corresponding with the years of the late Secre- 

28 











,««^RF-^" 



tary's age. The reverberating sounds and dying 
echoes of the cannon were answered by mournful 
responses of a similar character, from Brooklyn 
Heights, Governor's, Ellis 1 , Bedlow's and Staten 
Islands ; while the church bells of the city tolled 
out in mournful cadence the funeral knell. 

In the evening, the Committee met, and the 
Chairman announced the following 

SUB-COMMITTEES, 

to make arrangements for the obsequies in this 
city, on the 16th of November: 

On Military Affairs, 
Messrs. Penman, Oakley, Wheelan and Wells. 

On Civic Societies and Associations, 
Messrs. Moore, Sturtevant, Brown and Mabbatt. 

On Fire Department, 
Messrs. Mabbatt, Bouton, Boyce and Peck. 

On Preparing Programme, 
Messrs. Sturtevant, Oakley. Rogers and Barker. 

On Selecting an Orator, 
Messrs. Denman, Barker, Wells and Rogers. 

On Invitations, 
Messrs. Moore, Barker, Wells and Peck. 

29 












~ --^w ■ 




The Committee met, pursuant to adjournment, 
on the 10th of November, and unanimously adopted 
the following resolutions, which were ordered to 
be published in the public journals of the clay : 

Resolved, That our fellow-citizens generally, and the 
different societies, trades and associations, and Fire De- 
partment, of this city and adjacent counties, are requested 
to unite in the testimony of respect proposed to be cele- 
brated in honor of the illustrious dead ; and all societies 
and associations intending to co-operate, are requested to 
communicate with the Committee, at the Library Room, 
City Hall, from Thursday, the 11th, to Monday, the 15th 
inst., from one to five o'clock, p. m., each day, in order to 
make the necessary arrangements to carry out the views 
of the Common Council in an appropriate manner. 

Resolved, That the Army and Navy of the United States, 
on this station, are requested to co-operate with us in 
making the necessary arrangements, and that the Com- 
mittee on Military be requested to communicate with the 
commanders of the different stations. 

Resolved, That no banner, bearing political devices or 
inscriptions, shall be admitted in the procession. 

The Committee on Selecting an Orator reported 
that they had procured the services of James T. 
Brady, Esq., to deliver an eulogy on the character 
and services of the late Hon. Daniel Webster, at 
Metropolitan Hall, on the evening of the 16th inst. 

The report of the Committee was unanimously 
confirmed. 





^SCtStS 






I 



Linus W. Stevens, Esq.. was selected as the 
Grand Marshal of the day. 

The Lafayette Fusileers, Capt. Richard French, 
were selected as the Guard of Honor. 

The Committee on Invitation, in compliance 
with their duty, issued the following circulars to 
many of the corporate institutions and distin- 
guished gentlemen in the United States and citi- 
zens of this city : 

Xo. 8 City Hall, 

New York, Nov. 4th, 1852. 

S IR : — The Joint Committee of Arrangements of the 
Common Council of the City of New York, have the honor 
to extend to you a most respectful and earnest invitation 
to join with the Common Council of this city, and those 
who may unite with them, in testifying, by appropriate 
ceremonies, their high respect for the memory of the Hon. 
Daniel Webster, late Secretary of State of the United 
States of America. 

The distinguished virtues, the indomitable energy, and 
the memorable services to the country, in the Senate and 
Cabinet, which have characterized the life of the illustrious 
deceased, and endeared him to the hearts of his country- 
men, have induced our municipal authorities to regard his 
death as an occasion which calls for a public testimonial 
of affection and reverence for his memory. It has been 
accordingly determined that obsequies, corresponding with 
his character, shall be observed in this city, on the 16th 
day of November, inst., at which time your co-operatio 

31 




li 





will be regarded by our citizens, and by the Common 
Council, with sentiments of the greatest respect. 

In behalf of the Committee, 

We have the honor to be, 

Your obedient servants, 

ABRAHAM MOORE, 
ISAAC O. BARKER, 
HELMUS M. WELLS, 
WM. J. PECK. 



No. 8 City Hall, 
Nov. 6th, 1852. 

Sir : — The Joint Special Committee of the Common 
Council, appointed to make the necessary arrangements 
for solemnizing the obsequies of the late Hon. Daniel 
Webster, respectfully invite you to act as Pall-Bearer on 
the occasion, and unite with the Common Council and 
citizens of New York, on the 16th inst., in this public 
testimony of affection and reverence to the memory of the 
illustrious deceased. 

With high consideration, etc., 

ABRAHAM MOORE, 
ISAAC O. BARKER, 
HELMUS M. WELLS, 
WM. J. PECK. 



Your Committee have great satisfaction in 
giving their testimony to the ardent manifestations 
of respect entertained by the citizens generally 
for the memory of the Great Defender of the Con- 
stitution and the Union, and now so amply demon- 
strated by their zeal in assisting your Committee 
in their arduous labors. 

32 




Delegations from civic 



Cffi: • --l^g?:^:^^ fg/j^? | J 



S.1 > l ; 



i 



and political associations waited upon that portion 
of your Committee delegated to confer with them 
earl) T replies to the communication from the Com- 
mittee on Invitation were received, a portion of 
which only are deemed necessary for publication, 
and are as follows : 

LindEnwald, Nov. 11th, 1852. 

Gentlemen :— Your letter, inviting- me to join with the 
Common Council of the City of New York, and those who 
may unite with them in the observance of funeral obsequies 
in testimony of their high respect for the memory of the 
Hon. Daniel Webster, late Secretary of State of the 
United States, has been received ; and I have to ask the 
favor of you to express my thanks to that Honorable Body 
for their obliging request, and my sincere regret that it 
will not be in my power to assist in the performance of 
the proposed act of honor to the memory of a great man. 

Accept, gentlemen, the assurances of the great respect 
with which I am, 

Your obedient servant, 

M. VAN BUREN. 

To 

ABRAHAM MOORE, 
ISAAC O. BARKER, 
HELMUS M. WELLS, and 
WM. J. PECK, Esqs. 




Concord, N.H., Nov. 10, 1852 

Gentlemen :— Your letter of the 4th inst., inviting me 
to join with the Common Council of the City of New 
York, and those who may unite with them, " in testifying 

33 3 



J 




§11 



by appropriate ceremonies, their high respect for the 
memory of Daniel Webster, late Secretary of State of 
the United States," was duly received, my heart respond- 
ing sadly, but fully, to the sentiments you so touchingly 
express ; and while I cannot be present to participate 
with you in the testimonial of affection and reverence, I 
shall not fail to remember, on the day designated, that a 
fitting tribute is being paid by the great city to the great 
man. 

I am, with the highest respect, 

Your obedient servant, 

FRANK. PIERCE. 

Hon. ABRAHAM MOORE, 
ISAAC O. BARKER, 
HELMUS M. WELLS. 
WM. J. PECK, 
Joint Committee of the Common Council of the City of New York. 



Department of State, 
8 Nov. 1852. 

Gentlemen : — I have had the honor to receive a copy 
of your circular of the 4th, inviting my co-operation in the 
tribute of respect to the memory of Mr. Webster, proposed 
to be paid on the 16th inst., by the municipal authorities 
of New York. 

Nothing could be more grateful to the personal friends 
of our illustrious and lamented statesman, than to witness 
these manifestations of affection and respect on the part 
of your great metropolis, whose importance he so well 
understood, in its relation to all the great interests of the 
country, and to which he was bound by so many private 
friendships. I shall be with you in spirit, but I must re- 

34 




^K it ''i r : ■ ■ ^^— ^- : 




gret that my official duties here will not permit me to give 
my personal attendance. 

I remain, gentlemen, 
With high respect, 
Faithfully yours, 

EDWARD EVERETT. 

Messrs. ABRAHAM MOORE, 
ISAAC O. BARKER, 
HELMUS M. WELLS, 
WM. J. PECK. 



Head-Quarters, Eastern Division, 
Troy, 8th Nov., 1852. 

Gentlemen : — Your invitation of the 4th instant was 
received this day. 

I will be with you on the 16th, to do honor to the 
memory of the great statesman, who stood so long the 
able expounder of the Constitution, and the defender of 
the rights, the interests, and the honor of our common 
country. 

Please to inform me of the place where I shall join the 
Common Council, and whether the ceremonies are to be 
exclusively civic ? The question is asked in order to know 
in what dress it would be proper for me to appear. 

With considerations of the highest respect, 
I have the honor to be, 

Your obedient servant, 

JOHN E. WOOL. 

To 

ABRAHAM MOORE, 
ISAAC O. BARKER, 



L. 



HELMUS M. WELLS, 
WM. J. PECK, 

Committee of Arrangements . 

35 



J 











Troy, N. Y., November 13, 1852. 
Gentlemen : — I regret exceedingly that a severe indis- 
position, which confines me to ray room, will prevent me 
from participating with you in the interesting ceremonies 
to have place in your city on the 16th instant, in memory 
of the great civilian, statesman and patriot, Daniel 
Webster. 

In order, however, that the Head-Quarters of the East- 
ern Division may be represented on this occasion, Major 
0. F. Winship and Captain H. L. Shields, of my staff, 
will be present, and would be happy to be assigned a 
place in the procession. 

I have the honor to be, 

Very respectfully, 

Your ob't serv't, 

JOHN E. WOOL. 

Messrs. ABRAHAM MOORE, 

ISAAC O. BARKER, &c, 

New York., N. Y. 



Union Place Hotel, N. Y., 
Nov. 8th, 1852. 
Gentlemen : — Hon. C. P. James and myself have re- 
ceived your invitation to attend the obsequies of the late 
Hon. Daniel Webster, on the 16th inst. We both leave 
immediately for Boston, in order to be back in time to 
unite with you in paying a tribute of respect to the 
memory of the greatest orator and grandest intellect this 
continent has yet produced. 

Your obedient servant, 

JAS. SHIELDS. 

Messrs. ABRAHAM MOORE, 

ISAAC O. BARKER, 

HELMUS M. WELLS, 

WM. J. PECK, 

Committee of Arrangements. 
30 



Ki 



m: 




Binghampton, Nov. 13, 1852. 

Gentlemen : — My mournful acknowledgments are due 
for your invitation to unite with the Common Council of 
the City of New York in an appropriate tribute of respect 
to the memory of Daniel Webster. I regret that circum- 
stances will not permit me to be present upon an occasion 
so replete with melancholy interest. It is becoming that 
a nation should testify its respect for the character of one 
of the most remarkable men who have ever lived. His 
venerated name will be cherished when the material monu- 
ments which a grateful people will erect to his memory 
shall have crumbled to their native dust, and his fame out- 
live the brass and marble by which his deeds are sought 
to be perpetuated. 

I have the honor to be, 

With sincere regard, 

Your obedient servant, 



D. S. DICKINSON. 



Messrs. ABRAHAM MOORE, 
ISAAC O. BAKKER, 
HELMUS M. WELLS, 
WM. J. PECK. 




New York, Nov. 13, 1852. 
John H. Chambers, Esq. 

Dear Sir : — I have to acknowledge your note of this 
date, requesting me, in behalf of the City Council of the 
City of New York, to offer a prayer, at Metropolitan Hall, 
on occasion of the ceremonies solemnizing the death of the 
late Hon. Daniel Webster. 

Be pleased to present my thanks to the Committee for 



37 



S^T. i. 1^-13.=^= 








this mark of their respect, and signify to them my accept- 
ance of the post assigned to me. 

Very respectfully, 

Yours, &c, 

EDWD. LATHROP. 



New York, Oct. 12, 1852. 
G entlemex : — I have received your communication of 
the 6th inst., inviting me to act as Pall-Bearer on the 
occasion of the obsequies of the late Hox. Daxiel Web- 
ster, to be solemnized by the Corporation of the City of 
New York. 

I respectfully accept the invitation, and will act in the 
station and on the occasion referred to. 
I have the honor to be, 
Very respectfully, 

Your ob't serv't, 

HIRAM KETCHAM. 

Hon. ABRAHAM MOORE, 

AND OTHERS, 

Committee. 



To the Committee of the Hon. Corporation, appointed to 

Celebrate the Obsequies of the late Hon. Daniel Webster : 

Gextlemex : — The N. Y. S. Society of the Cincinnati 
are desirous of joining in the celebration of the obsequies 
of Mr. Webster, and request to be included in your 
arrangements on the occasion. 
I am, respectfully, 
Your ob't serv't, 

ANTHONY LAMB, 

Pres. N. Y. S. S. Cincinnati. 
New York, Nov. 12, 1852. 

38 




ft 



To the Special Committee of Arrangements, Common 

Council, Obsequies of the lamented Daniel Webster : 

Gentlemen : — At a meeting' of the Grand Council of 
the Tammany Society, held at the Great Wigwam, on 
Thursday evening, Nov. 11th, the following resolution was 
unanimously passed : 

Resolved, That the Grand Council of the Tammany 
Society unite with the city authorities in the funeral obse- 
quies of the lamented Daniel Webster, and that the 
Committee of Arrangements of the Common Council be 
respectfully notified of the same. 

GEORGE S. MESSERVE, 

Father of the Council. 

CASPAR C. CHILDS, Scribe, pro tern. 



New York, Nov. 10, 1852. 

Gentlemen : — The General Committee of the Demo- 
cratic Whig Young Men acknowledge, through their 
Chairman, the invitation to participate in the obsequies 
designed, in honor of the memory of Daniel Webster, on 
the 16th inst., in this city. 

The Committee, with thanks to the Joint Committee of 
Arrangements of the Common Council, will gratefully join 
in the services of the day, and be ready to occupy such 
place in the procession as they may be assigned. 
Very respectfully, 

Your ob't serv't, 

ERASTUS BROOKS. 

To Messrs. ABRAHAM MOORE, 
ISAAC O. BARKER, 
HELMUS M. WELLS, and 
WM. J. PECK, 

Joint Committee of Arrangements. 



m 



©gas 



39 



=CSJS® 



i 




Tammany Hall, 
New York, Nov. 12, 1852. 

Gentlemen : — The Democratic Republican General 
Committee have directed me to acknowledge the receipt 
of your note, in which you extend to the Committee an 
invitation to join with the Common Council of the City of 
New York, on the 16th inst., in solemnizing the obsequies 
of the late Hon. Daniel Webster. 

The General Committee, appreciating the courtesy of 
the Common Council on this occasion, and participating 
in the universal sorrow which this national bereavement 
has produced, accept your invitation, and have appointed 
a Committee to make suitable arrangements for the pur- 
pose of co-operating with our fellow-citizens in the contem- 
plated mark of respect to the memory of the illustrious 
deceased. 

With high regard and esteem, 
I have the honor to remain, 

Your ob't serv't, 

D. E. SICKLES, 



Chm'n Cor. Committee. 



ABRAHAM MOORE, 
ISAAC O. BARKER, 
HELMUS M. WELLS, ami 
WM. J. PECK, Esqs., 

Committee on Invitations. 



Astor House. Nov. 13, 1852. 
My Dear Friend : — Please request your Committee 
to assign a place for the New England Society in the pro- 
cession, on Tuesday next. 

Truly yours, 

C. A. STETSON, 

Ch'n Committee. 

ALD. STURTEVANT. 

40 




New York, Nov. 10, 1852. 
Gentlemen : — I have the honor to inform you that the 
Chancery of the Order of United Americans accept the 
invitation of the' Common Council to participate in the 
obsequies, on the 16th inst., in memory of that distin- 
guished American Statesman, the late Hon. Daniel Web- 
ster. 

With assurances of high respect, 
I have the honor to be, 
Your very ob't scrv't, 

THOS. R. WHITNEY, 



To Aldkkmkn 

ABRAHAM MOORE, 
ISAAC O. BARKER, 
HELMUS M. WELLS, 
WM. J. PECK, 

Committee. 



Ch'n Com'te JLrrang'mHs. 



New York, Nov. 10, 1852. 
To the Special Committee : 

At a meeting of the Phenix Guard, it was unanimously 
resolved that the Company should participate in the 
funeral obsequies of the Hon. Daniel Webster, late Sec- 
retary of State, on Tuesday, the 10th inst., and it was 
referred to your Honorable Body. 

RICHARD H. WELCH, 

Commandant. 

New York, Nov. 8, 1852. 
Sir : — We, members of the " New York Free Academy 
Guards," desire to participate in showing our regard for 
Daniel Webster, and would like a place assigned us in 
the procession, on the 16th inst. 

Capt. N. II. BABCOCK 

41 



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^ai»^ 





mkM^r^mmd%m 



S , *5 % %%M^.t£ 



^*z£*^*^~ 




NEW YORK HISTORICAL SOCIETY. 

A special meeting of the New York Historical Society 
was held in the Chapel of the University, to take action 
with reference to the death of Hon. Daniel Webster. 

Hon. Luther Bramsh, President, in the chair. 

The meeting having been called to order, the President 
introduced the business for which the meeting had been 
called, in the following remarks : 

Fellow-Members of the Society : — It is the peculiar 
duty, as it is the appropriate function of an Historical 
Society, to note, as they pass, the current events of the 
times ; to gather them up and preserve them as elements 
of future history. There have been few events, in the 
history of our country, so pregnant of interest and of con- 
sequences, and none that have so touched, in its lowest 
depths of feeling, the heart of the nation, as that which 
calls us together this evening. On lightning wings there 
came up to us, from every part of our widely-extended 
country, the sad echoes of this overwhelming event. The 
deep sympathies of a nation, in every form of manifesta- 
tion, proclaim a nation's bereavement, and a nation's grief. 
An oppressive gloom overshadows the land, throbbing 
pulsations of grief pervade all hearts, and a foreboding 
anxiety saddens every mind. At the announcement of 
this event, the action of the nation seems to be suddenly 
arrested. In the consternation of the moment, each one, 
with bated breath, looks in the face of his fellow for that 
confidence and hope which he finds not in himself. The 
national Cabinet, at a critical moment, misses its master 



42 



3r- 







mind and its main reliance ; the foreign relations of the 
country their guardian and defender ; commerce feels less 
confident in its enterprises, and labor less sure of its re- 
wards. A guiding light and voice of wisdom are extin- 
guished in the Republic. Jurisprudence has lost its most 
brilliant ornament, eloquence its embodied spirit, and the 
social circle its most attractive centre. Humanity mourns 
the loss of one of her most gifted sons, the Constitution 
and the Union one of their ablest defenders, and the 
country one of its most self-sacrificing patriots. 

It is at long intervals that Heaven, in its munificence, 
vouchsafes to the world such men with such minds as 
Daniel Webster. They come not often in any age. 
They are rather beacon lights, sparsely scattered along 
the track of ages, to guide and shape the destiny of nations. 
It is such a light that has now, " in a blaze of glory, sunk 
below the horizon of time, and become immortal in the 
two worlds at the same moment." 

It is to testify the Society's sense of such a loss, and to 
do honor to the memory of such a man, that we are now 
assembled. 

Rev. Dr. Hawks then rose and said : 

Mr. President : — A sad duty has been confided to me, 
and I, in common with my countrymen, mourn over the 
occasion which calls for its performance. When I recall 
the saddened expression which, for the last week, I have 
seen on the countenances of my fellow citizens, when I 
observe the deep stillness which pervades this hall, I feel 
that words are scarce necessary to render the tribute that 
we fain would yield to the memory of the illustrious man 
to whom you have alluded. Our hearts are already ren- 
dering that tribute by expressive silence. 

43 



• 





And yet, when such a man as Daniel Webster dies, we 
owe it alike to him and to ourselves to speak : it is meet 
that American hearts should render, in the face of the 
world, their outspoken attestation to the worth of one to 
whom, if to any man, justly belonged the epithet, " The 
Great American." 

I am unmeet to speak his eulogy ; I came not here for 
that purpose. Let that task be committed to a more skill- 
ful tongue than mine. Should I make the effort, the feel- 
ings under which I labor would disqualify me for the per- 
formance. But thus much will I venture to say : the head 
and the heart constitute all that really make the man. 
Of his high intellectual powers, so happily blended, the 
story has at once been told with equal brevity and beauty 
by one of the worthiest of his countrymen, in a single 
sentence. In his illustrations of mind, "the lio-htnina: of 
passion flashed along the links of the iron chain of argu- 
ment." And, sir, of his heart, and that deep sea of human 
affection in which it floated, the story is one just as long- 
as his life, and of touching beauty. You may read its 
beginning in the picture of the New Hampshire farmer's 
boy, whose deep and generous fraternal love consecrated 
his earliest earnings to a beloved brother's education ; 
you may read its close in the honest tears shed over his 
remains by the faithful, though humble dependents, who, 
for ten, twenty, aye, even thirty years, had loved his 
service because they knew his kindness. 

But, sir, he has only gone before us ; he is not lost to 
us. He yet lives. True, we have said "earth to earth" 
over that which was mortal ; but he has left behind him 
that which I would fain believe his countrymen " will not 
willingly let die." 

44 



' ■< 



r g-j»nM awn 





\ 



m 



It only remains to discbarge the duty attached to me by 
submitting the following preamble and resolutions : 

Whereas, The dispensation of an all-wise Providence 
has removed from the earth Hon. Daniel Webster, late 
Secretary of State of the United States, and for nearly 
half a century associated in the councils and identified 
with the history of the nation ; and 

Whereas, (To use his own most appropriate and expres- 
sive language,) " it is fit that we commemorate the services 
of national benefactors, extol their virtues, and render 
thanks to God for eminent blessings, early given, and 
long-continued to our favored country ;" therefore, we, 
the New York Historical Society, as a body, would add 
our mournful tribute to the sounds of sorrow, which now 
come up from a nation's heart, at the bereavement which 
but too forcibly reminds us of one who, springing from the 
ranks of the people, evinced, with the generosity natural 
to youth, the resolute determination that belongs to the 
maturity of manhood, and with indefatigable industry, 
surmounting obstacles amidst the vast labors of an arduous 
profession and continuous devotion to legislative duties, 
prosecuted his extended researches into the domains of 
general learning, having acquired in early life those solid 
attainments which formed the strong foundation on which 
he reared, in after-times, an intellectual structure, on 
which men looked with undiminished admiration to the 
last, brought to the service of his country the best labors 
of his head, and the best affections of his heart ; main- 
tained his principles with an energy, manliness and 
eloquence worthy of an American statesman ; with an in- 
domitable moral courage, stood ever fearlessly in the front 
rank in defence of the Constitution, regardless of personal 

45 





consequences ; with an intensity of patriotism worthy of 
the purest days of the Republic, acknowledged no earthly 
allegiance, and rendered no loyalty, save to his country 
and his whole country ; and, finally, with calm dignity, in 
beautiful harmony with his long and illustrious career, 
met death with a " reasonable, religious and holy hope," 
thus, after " sounding all the depths and shoals of honor," 
adding the weight of his testimony to the truth of God, 
and relinquishing the glories of the statesman to repose 
his soul in the humblest hope of the Christian. 

Resolved, That, while we thus feebly express our sympa- 
thies in a nation's loss, we feel the true and appropriate 
tribute which becomes American citizens is, in youth, to 
imitate his indefatigable industry ; in manhood, his honor- 
able and disinterested patriotism ; and so to live, that, in 
old age, theirs may be, as was his, the tranquil composure 
which, resting on a Christian's hope, disarmed death of 
his terrors. 

Resolved, That these resolutions be entered on the Jour- 
nal of the Society, and a copy thereof, duly authenticated 
by the officers of the New York Historical Society, be 
forwarded to the immediate relatives of Mr. Webster. 

The foregoing resolutions were reported by a Com- 
mittee, composed of the following named gentlemen : 



J. PRESCOTT HALL, 
REV. WM. ADAMS, D.D., 
MARSHALL S. BIDWELL, 
EDWARD CURTIS, 
FRED. DE PEYSTER, 
REV. THOS. DE WITT, D.D. 



HIRAM KETCHUM, 
LUTHER R. MARSH, 
GEORGE H. MOORE, 
AUGUSTUS SCHELL, 
CHAS. A. STETSON, 
GULIAN C. VERPLANCK, 



REV. FRANCIS L. HAWKS, D.D. 

Luther R. Marsh, Esq., seconded the resolutions, and 
said : 

46 



S^Sk 




r/g* O 



4 



This Society, Mr. President, whose purpose it is to hold 
the past and give it perpetuity, must pause at this most 
melancholy event of present history. The fabric of Ameri- 
can history is interwrought with the golden threads of 
Webster's life and name. He was a part of all its great 
events. Those whose enactment was too early for his 
participation, he has touched with the immortality of his 
eloquence. His great thoughts enrich our legislative 
libraries, illume the leaves on which the jurist searches for 
his light, adorn the volumes of our national literature, and 
are inefiaceably imprinted on the hearts of the American 
people. His splendid sentences, informed with noble 
sentiment, will always, as now, echo in our schools, gladden 
and teach the memories of our students and statesmen, and 
enter, as they already have entered, into the very consti- 
tution of American mind. 

The priceless Charter of our Union — that political law 
of gravitation — binding these planetary States within 
their orbits — has received additional assurance of its 
power, necessity and permanence, by the life and by the 
words of its great defender. 

He has added durability to granite — that sacred rock, 
against whose defiant breast the surges of the sea had 
broken from the world's earliest youth, and which opened 
its flinty portals to receive the rich freight that leapt from 
the Mayflower's deck — he smote with his magic wand, 
and abundant streams of grand suggestion will flow thence 
forever. 

The immortal mound, from whence triumphal notes of 
freedom flew through every State and to every heart, 
sustains a commemorative shaft, which, speaking to the 
long line of generations yet to come, will ever flame with 
Webster's words of fire. 

47 






The names and deeds of our heroes shine yet more 
luminously through the atmosphere in which he has en- 
wrapped them, and his glowing words hang like starry 
coronets over that consecrated mount, that holds the ashes 
of the Father of our Country. 

At rare intervals, it has pleased Almighty God to give 
the world great types of the race — extraordinary endow- 
ments — as if to show us glimpses of the grandeur and the 
possibilities of our nature. As we look down the long 
track of Time, we discover, at distant periods, rising high 
above the level of mankind, a few of these conspicuous 
landmarks of humanity. The lives of such men are eras. 
Though they bow to the common lot of mortality, and pass 
to higher spheres, they yet live in the world they first in- 
habited, by the influence of their example and the record 
of their thoughts ; they still lift their heads — some through 
the mists of centuries — and retreating Time but enlarges 
their proportions. 

Of these transcendent natures, none stand forth in 
greater intellectual majesty and supremacy than he who 
was yesterday committed to the tomb. The attributes 
and the insignia of greatness clustered about him, were 
stamped on his expansive brow, flashed from his unfathom- 
able eye, spoke in his trumpet-tones, and throbbed in his 
mighty heart. His mind, cast in the finest and most 
colossal mould, freighted with argosies of knowledge, and 
singularly harmonizing with a nature, broad, vast and 
genial, seemed never to have been stirred to its utmost 
depths ; but, however impassioned or aroused, to hold 
back reserves of power, which no occasion had ever called 
upon him to exhaust. His presence, grand, impressive, 
God-like, embellished and uplifted our common humanity. 

His years, sir, were not spent in the exclusive realm of 



1 







^■— -^aSfcT7l^>-^ 



ii 






poesy, nor in the dominion of philosophy, nor yet, alone, 
in historical research, or scholarly acquirement ; but, em- 
bracing all these, and tempering them in the alembic of 
his own genius, he applied them to invest with light and 
beauty, the earnest, sturdy and practical uses of his life. 

That life will ever stand, a beacon of instruction, repre- 
senting the growth and the capacities of man, under 
American institutions. Emerging to the light of day, on 
the outer rim of civilization — engirt by a Northern wilder- 
ness — with primal nature all around him — on a sterile and 
reluctant soil, and far removed from the appliances of an 
advanced society — he had little else to rely upon than the 
inflexible principles of a Xew England farmer, and the 
great resources which God had planted in his soul. But 
on the rugged hills, and under the arms of that original 
forest which sheltered his birth — with patriot blood cours- 
ing his veins — thought and grew this stately child of 
genius. Trampling the snows, and conquering the surly 
blasts, he made his way to the country school — while yet 
a boy a matchless Olympian — thence rising, by the in- 
tensity of his energy, the firmness of his character, and the 
stupendous qualities of his intellect, step by step, from 
school to college, from college to the courts — to the halls 
of State legislation — to the councils of the Union — to the 
helm of State — to the undying affections of America, and 
to the admiration of the world. Self-reliant, and self- 
cultured, he hewed, with sinewy strokes, his own eternal 
niche in the Temple of Fame. 

To whomever it shall be given to trace the records of 
his life — if he be adapted to and worthy of the theme — if 
he be a Choate, a Bancroft, or an Everett — there will 
be spread a grateful task ; for, to the gifted, it must be 
delightful and refreshing to devote his energies to a sub- 

49 4 











ject upon which, without incurring the charge of exagger- 
ation, he may pour out, in unrestricted utterance, the 
fullness of his inspiration. 

No man, surely, sir, has left this life amidst a profounder 
or more extended grief. A universal sentiment affects the 
nation. Our public columns are wreathed in black. Our 
courts adjourn — our public offices are closed — the wheels 
of business stopped — all classes, callings and professions, 
societies and institutions, cities and States, send their in- 
cense of sorrow to the skies. The Press discards the 
common topics of the day, and drapes its million issues in 
the badge of woe. Hostile parties pause, on the very 
verge of conflict, and swell the mourning dirge. The flags 
of other nations stop, mid-mast, to pay their tribute of 
sorrow and respect. In whatever waters our navy rocks, 
the national banner droops in gloom. Wherever the sons 
of America are found, whether on the Atlantic or Pacific 
border — whether under the rising, the zenith, or the setting 
sun — there, are bosoms struggling with emotion ; and 
through tongues of bells the funeral anthem rings upon 
the air. 

He, whom we mourn, approached the end of one world, 
and the beginning of another, with consciousness uncloud- 
ed — with a sublime serenity, patience and submission — by 
the calmness of his death attesting his faith in the future ; 
and as the glimmering landscape of this earth faded to his 
sight, and the divine strains of Job lingered in his memory, 
the soothing images of his favorite poem floated before his 
mind, and his car caught the solemn curfew tolling the 
knell of his descending day. Ere yet the morning stars 
had closed their songs, at that beautiful hour, so loved by 
him, so sought and so appreciated, his eyes opened upon 
the mysteries of the Spirit World. 

5J 




And while Ms iron frame — the temporary tabernacle of 
the real man — rests from gigantic labors that would have 
crushed a common form, amid the quiet of his favored 
fields, and under the protecting branches of his own loved 
trees — a sacred spot of pilgrimage hereafter — afar from 
party strife, from political turmoil, from the clang of com- 
merce, from legal contests and legislative debate, with his 
own kindred sleeping around him, in Pilgrim soil, fast by 
the rock that greeted the Pilgrim's feet, with the resound- 
ing voices of the waves, in varied chorus, chanting his 
ocean requiem to the end of Time — his own great spirit, 
joining the illustrious and the good that have preceded 
him from all the rolling years, will advance to new and 
brighter attainments, in the unfolding, but exhaustless, 
knowledge of eternity. 

Kev. Samuel Osgood said : 

Mr. President : — Most of us came here this evening, 
attracted by the list of speakers announced in the news- 
papers, and expecting to be charmed by their eloquence, 
and melted by their pathos — with no other office devolving 
upon ourselves than the privilege of being listeners. We 
have not been disappointed, except in the pause that has 
now come over the meeting, and I am tempted to say, even 
if very roughly, a simpler word than has been spoken. 

Is there not something in the departure of our great 
statesman that brings him near our common sympathies, 
and makes us think of the man even more than the orator 
and jurist? His last hours, so full of tender humanity, 
take us to his very bedside, and his funeral rites, so simple 
and affecting, lead us to that village house, and make us 
all one with that train of mourners. The country seems 

51 





^g» -" -^C 5 




. e % % s,. 



L 



honestly to cherish this feeling, and to speak as if a friend 
of their household had passed away. Yesterday, I came 
from Baltimore to this city, and, on the way, the roll of 
our locomotive was accompanied by the deep sound of 
minute guns ; and in every intervening city and village, 
the drooping flags spoke the general sympathy of the 
people with the bereavement of the nation. The thought 
of that simple burial service, yesterday, in Marshfield,with 
the voice of the village minister asking God's blessing 
upon the mourners, in the time-hallowed, plain manner of 
that Pilgrim race, connects that scene with our common 
lot, and binds the name of the illustrious statesman to ihe 
home-feelings of our people. How can we help thinking 
of him as one of ourselves, sharing our own early struggles 
with fortune, and keeping himself within our republican 
sympathies, even to death and after death ! Fitly crowns 
of oak upon his coffin indicated the strength of his intel- 
lect, and wreaths of flowers from the garden breathed the 
tenderness of his affections. 

I would say, or try to say, one thing which concerns us 
closely, as a Historical Society, in connection with Daniel 
Webster's name. What, sir, is the greatest and most 
enduring of historical monuments ? Is it edifices of stone ? 
Is it cities, empires, or even races of men? Palaces and 
temples may go back to dust, cities disappear, empires 
vanish, and races die out. But speech remains, and bears, 
throughout changing ages, the great thoughts of able 
minds. Speech is the most subtile and indestructible 
power of man ; and the Creator himself, when borrowing 
from earthly language a name for his own revealing power, 
called it the Word. The pre-eminent historical men are 
those who have moulded the speech of nations. 

52 






dsP 





Is not this one of our departed orator's honors, th 
not only made speeches, but helped make the speech of our 
country, so that the current language has more purity and 
strength because of him? In boyhood, how many of us 
have been schooled by his eloquence, and been saved by 
its massive simplicity from the feeble verbiage and the 
vulgar coarseness too ready to corrupt our tongue? Last 
winter, after the great meeting at Metropolitan Hall, in I 
honor of Cooper's memory, I chanced upon an interview 
with Mr. Webster, who had presided over that assembly, 
and took occasion to thank him for the influence of his 
eloquence upon the schools of the nation. I told him that 
if they who had spoken his speeches in their boyhood, had 
been asked to rise and stand before him at that meetinsr, 
the evening before, I believed that a thousand stout men 
would have stood up to thank him with their cheers. He 
seemed touched by the remark, and said, very feelingly, 
that it was a great thing for any man to hear such an 
assurance of his own influence. True, surely, it is that the 
youth of our nation have purified and strengthened their 
speech in the severe, but generous school of our orator's 
eloquence. 

To frame such speech as his, implies no ordinary power, 
indicates no common experience. No classical learning, 
no rhetorical training, give it of themselves. It must 
grow out of a life deeply rooted in reality, and in close 
sympathy with the common mind. Daniel Webster 
learned to speak in the school of Nature and Providence, 
and his whole career, from boyhood to old age — his life 
on the farm, at college, in law, in politics, in society, under 
the open heavens, and in presence of God and the Gospel — 
passed into his mind, and uttered itself in his word. The 

53 

— ^ ■— « ■ ■ i nim# 












great word-masters of our race have not been word- 
mongers, dealing in empty sound ; they have taken the 
strongest hold of the realities of existence, and their word 
has been the voice of their inmost life. Webster has em- 
bodied the practical mind of our nation in his word, and 
our nationality, so indissolubly connected with his elo- 
quence, has been made by him a winged and imperishable 
essence, floating in the very atmosphere of the ages. 
Poorly, indeed, I am illustrating the thoughts in my mind. 
I leave it with you in a single sentence, and say as I close : 
The historical mission of Daniel Webster ; the lan- 
guage of our country is his monument — the household 
words of our patriotism are stamped with his name. 

Dr. John W\ Francis, LL.D., followed, and said : 

Mr. President : — It is quite impossible for me to re- 
frain from some expression of the deep sympathy I feel, 
with you all, in the public misfortune which has brought 
us together ; and, I hope, many years of association with 
the illustrious deceased, will justify me in paying a slight 
tribute to his memory. The universality of the sorrow 
and the praise elicited by the death of Mr. Webster, is 
his most significant eulogy. It is remembered now, with 
tears and benedictions, that he invariably sacrificed party 
considerations and personal interests for the good of his 
country ; that he always marched bravely into the breach 
which sectional animosity made in the holy wall of our 
Union ; that the details of political aims were instantly 
forgotten, when any great question was at issue : in a 
word, that the prominent qualities of Mr. Webster were 
those of the great statesman and the genuine patriot. 
Such is the final estimate even of the bitterest speculative 

54 



J£S= 




opponent of the deceased, and in this glorious recognition 
of a truly noble character, Ave find ample reason for the 
deep and unprecedented feeliug which pervades the land. 
But here we may be permitted to indulge in less general 
emotions : it is given us to mourn not only the great 
Senator and the illustrious Secretary of State, but the 
scholar, the companion, the historical man of our country, 
whose writings identify his name forever with our institu- 
tions, and whose friendship was among the richest trea- 
sures of our society. He was one of us by virtue of the 
ardent love he bore the records of the past, and the high 
appreciation he entertained of the dignity of historical 
learning. It is a sad, yet delightful coincidence, that his 
last great effort was made at the invitation and for the 
benefit of the New York Historical Society. 

Daniel Webster was the ideal of an American citizen. 
The simple and stately grandeur of his style, the 
strong basis of good sense, the firmness of purpose, the 
directness of expression, the unanswerable logic, and, 
above all, the clear, emphatic statement of his thoughts, 
are all characteristic of the American mind in its highest 
development. The charm of his intellectual power, when 
genially exerted, was as attractive as Hamilton's, while 
his practical wisdom resembled that of Franklin. I re- 
call with pleasure a conversation once held with him, with 
regard to that illustrious sage. No individual throughout 
our wide domain cherished a deeper reverence for the 
talents and services of this incomparable man, than did 
Mr. Webster. In a discussion which arose among some 
friends, at a social board, Mr. AVebster was asked his 
opinion concerning the political and fiscal integrity of 
Franklin — a subject which had been agitated with some 
asperity. " Gentlemen," answered Mr. Webster, " the 

55 






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topic is too broad for present discussion. Among all our 
political men, Franklin stands prominent for astuteness, 
sagacity, and integrity. Amidst all his negotiations, 
though the depository of innumerable State transactions, 
he was never known to betray the slightest secret, or to 
utter a hint from which a sinister revelation might occur. 
As to his fiscal integrity, who knew him better than 
Washington ? And had the slightest blemish rested upon 
that portion of his character, would that exalted man have 
nominated hiin as the first President of the Union, and at 
the same time when he himself was waited upon by author- 
ized delegates to urge him to accept that vast trust ? I 
want no other demonstration of the incorruptible princi- 
ples of Franklin than that nomination by Washington." 

The universality of Mr. Webster's knowledge was re- 
markable. He rivaled Burke in the instructiveness of 
his conversation. Who that has ever enjoyed the luxury 
of listening to his rich fund of incidents, touching the 
career of our illustrious patriots of Revolutionary renown 
— Otis, John and Samuel Adams, Hancock, Secretary 
Thompson, Patrick Henry, Madison, and others — can 
ever forget tiie vivid portraits he presented of those 
chivalric personages ? 

What a felicitous example, among many others, have we 
of that descriptive and anecdotic.U vein of our departed 
friend, in the composition which he has given us of the 
speech ascribed to the elder Adams, as delivered in the 
Continental Congress, on the subject of the declaration of 
American independence ! 

Upon agriculture, he would talk by the hour, with a 
cognizance of details truly surprising in a man who per- 
formed such incessant duties to the State. He;ir him on 
trees and their properties, and you would infer he had 

5S 





■&r& 






\^y:;M^Jrg : i^m^ ' 



long lived an arboriculturalist. Linnaeus would have 
been enraptured listening to the merits of his old corres- 
pondent, Bartram, the botanist and traveler, as unfolded 
by Mr. Webster. His reading in natural history was 
very extensive, ranging from Theophrastus, on stones, to 
Audubon, on birds. He gave great credit to Jefferson 
for his researches in this department, made while he was 
so young a man, and at a period when physical science 
was so little cultivated in our country. 

Will the Society pardon me, if I detain them a moment 
longer ? The professional life of the physician has its 
corroding cares ; but it is not barren of grateful incidents, 
arising out of its intricate relations with the great and 
the good, amidst the diversified occurrences of physical 
sufferings and mental intercommunion. During a period 
of some fifteen years, my medical intercourse with the 
illustrious deceased, on his visitations to this city, was 
to myself a source of genuine gratification and instruction. 
The wide grasp of his mind and the fullness of his know- 
ledge demonstrated that characteristic which the Germans 
have denominated " the many-sided." However diversified 
might be the range of conversation, it was stamped with 
his own individual elaboration, and poured forth with a 
free and nntrammeled utterance that marked a strong 
reliance on himself, and a conviction becoming the man 
who aimed so largely at the practical and the ennobling. 
He was remarkable for his frankness, yet winning and 
persuasive ; and, while solicitous of convincing, was 
wholly free from dogmatic presumption, either in matter 
or in manner. His dexterity in repartee was felicitous, 
yet governed by the impulses of a benevolent and tolerant 
disposition. I think I know enough of his inward emo- 
tions to affirm that he detested the artifices and expedients 

57 









so interwoven with the cares and aspirations of the life of 
the mere politician, with the most abiding and cordial 
hatred. The fates had destined him for the management 
of State affairs, yet I feel the strongest conviction that 
greater joys and deeper gratifications would have flowed 
in upon his soul, devoted to the sublime pursuits of philo- 
sophical and natural science. He may have felt how vast 
was that fame which might hereafter associate his name 
with Washington's and Franklin's, yet a stimulus to 
action no less potent, if not more so, might have swayed 
his career as a disciple of the school of Lord Bacon. 
Universal, indeed, as was his renown, achieved amidst the 
severer trials of his country, he would, for his own indi- 
vidual solace, have preferred Plato, in the groves of 
Academus, to Solon, encompassed by the Athenian multi- 
tude. I am speaking of the philosophical tendency of his 
intellect. 

In casting my eyes around me, J see in this assembly, 
many individuals who graced the public celebration which 
took place in this city, in 1831, to honor Mr. Webster, 
for his successful and important efforts in Congress, the 
preceding season, in reference lo the Constitution of the 
United States. That occasion can never be forgotten by 
those who in anywise were participators in it. Never be- 
fore had this great metropolis made such demonstrations 
of its patriotism ; never was a nobler tribute bestowed on 
the genius and wisdom of those exalted spirits who framed 
the Constitution of the general government. New York 
had furnished its full quota for the triumph. The vener- 
able Kent, who presided at that memorable festival, must 
have received new life and fresh vigor in the contempla- 
tion of those captivating portraits of the founders of the 
Republic, which the gifted Webster presented with such 







discriminating judgment and admirable tact. How could 
it be otherwise with the enlightened and cultivated Chan- 
cellor ? Many of the individuals, whom Mr. Webster 
passed in review, were of that noble band who had, during 
a long life, often co-operated with the eminent jurist in 
laying the foundation, and in rearing, in his native country, 
that temple of juridical science, the rays of which were to 
illumine the paths of its worshippers for all after-time. 
And when, with a skill not unlike that of a master 
chirurgeon, the great orator, dismembering the gangrenous 
adhesions of nullification, covertly intended to corrupt 
the Constitution at its very vitals, and pollute the very 
channels of its alimentary support, exclaimed, with pro- 
digious force, '•' New York, that prosperous State, is the 
greatest link in the chain of the Union, and will ever be, 
I am sure, the strongest, also," could a more sublime mani- 
festation of love of country work upon the feelings of the 
beholder, than that grasp of the hand which Mr. Webster 
received from the eminent Chancellor, and from his old 
associate in his legal labors, Chief Justice Spexcer. The 
scene was worthy of the pencil of our Trumbull. 

I have often profited largely by those casual intervals 
of intercourse with Mr. Webster, which the sick room 
affords to the physician. He endured the annoyances of 
physical pain with becoming fortitude, and was accommo- 
dating in a remarkable degree to the suggestions for relief 
which the exigencies of the moment pointed out. "As 
you please," he would say. His mind was ever heroic, 
whatever might have been his bodily distress. A slight 
alleviation of pain was frequently the precursor of higher 
intellectual activity, and his thoughts seemed to find a freer 
utterance, and his feelings a warmer tone, than under other 
circumstances. It was at such times that he abounded 



59 



9 X '- 



Sflfr^ 





v 










most in anecdote. The verses by Cowper,oii Alexander 
Selkirk, were cited by him, on one of these occasions, as 
among the most admirable of that poet's writings, and the 
sentiment of the lonely islander dwelt upon with a depth 
and tenderness of appreciation, which showed how honest 
was his love of nature and independent life. Cowper's 
verses led to the mention of Defoe. " I annually read 
Robinson 0111806,'' he continued : " ' I was born in the year 
1632, in the city of York.' I think, Doctor, I know the 
book pretty well by heart." 

The reputation of Patrick Henry may possibly not be 
increased by an anecdote which Mr. Webster gave con- 
cerning the biographer of the renowned orator, on the 
authority of Mr. Jefferson himself. Upon the publica- 
tion of his life of Henry, Mr. Wirt transmitted a copy of 
it to Mr. Jefferson, and, after a silence of some time, 
addressed a note to the Ex-President, requesting his 
opinion of the work. Jefferson, in return, wrote : "I 
have divided my library into two parts — one for works of 
fiction and the other for works of fact ; my mind is not 
yet decided in which compartment T shall place your 
volume." 

Professionally, I may be allowed to say that Mr. Web- 
ster offered an extraordinary instance of the influence of 
an enlarged and active mind upon a naturally fine physical 
organization. His brain mav be said to have consumed 
his body. The constant drafts upon his nervous system, 
his incessant exercise of the thinking faculty, made gradual 
but visible inroads upon his vital powers. And yet how 
serenely triumphed that mind at the close ! How the in- 
tellect retained self-possession and clearness to the last ! 
As love of country guided him while living, so did the 
consolations of Christianity support him in the hours of 



60 



lm 





death. Never did a great man die with more unaffected 
courage, grateful submission, and true reliance on God. 

It is known that the great sculptor Thorwaldsen, 
seeiug Mr. Webster's bust, by our countryman Powers, 
thought it a copy from some antique of Jove, so massive 
and ponderous, but harmonious, was the astonishing de- 
velopment of the organs of intelligence ; and I cannot 
help a feeling of regret that (if what the public papers 
declare be true) that wonderful cerebral structure should 
have been disintegrated, through an unhallowed curiosity 
for experimental research. 

Garlyle said of him, that he was the only man he had 
ever seen who realized his idea of a statesman. That firm, 
broad and noble figure stands out, indeed, on the tablet of 
memory, as does his name on the roll of his country's 
benefactors. There was a proportion no less grand and 
harmonious in his career and genius. The uniform self- 
respect which marked his intercourse with others ; the 
utter freedom of his most private discourse from every 
thing exceptionable ; the sustained dignity of his bearing ; 
his love of nature, of the ever fresh and enduring old 
English authors — these, and kindred traits, conform to the 
enlarged grasp of his mind, and the majestic simplicity of 
his eloquence. His revised and collected discourses are 
the most valuable literary bequest yet made to the Re- 
public ; his fame is the most precious inheritance of her 
children, save that of Washington ; and his example 
should be a new inspiration to every citizen who glories 
in the title of American. 

The philosophic Priestley, filled with gratitude toward 

the land of his adoption, in his last moments, in 1804, gave 

| assurance to Mr. Jefferson that he was happy in having 

lived so long under his excellent administration. I bor- 

61 






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row the sentiment, and thank God that I have lived in a 
period in which I was permitted to enjoy some little inter- 
course with Daniel Webster. 

I have trespassed too long on your indulgence, and I 
cannot but be conscious that it is in vain to attempt to 
attach praise to one so much above all praise, in his capa- 
cities and in his labors ; and, if it were not so, how should 
I think any declaration of mine could be remembered, on 
a subject which is already illustrated by the genius of our 
Cicero — of Edward Everett — who stands towering, in 
classic beauty and grandeur, in the waste left by him who 
was " above all Greek, above all Roman fame." 



COLUMBIA COLLECxE. 

After the usual Chapel exercises in Columbia College 
had been gone through, Mr. Van Duzer, of the Senior 
Class, rose and made the following remarks : 

Mr. President : — I rise on behalf of my fellow-students, 
to perform one of the most painful duties of my life. Al- 
ready has the news traversed with lightning speed the 
length and breadth of our land. Daniel Webster is no 
more ! The statesman, the jurist, the defender of the Con- 
stitution has departed from us. This is no time to pro- 
nounce his eulogy. " His fame, indeed, is now safe. That 
is now treasured up beyond the reach of accident. Al- 
though no sculptured marble should rise to his memory, 
nor engraved stone bear record of his deeds, yet will his 
remembrance be as lasting as the land he honored." If I 
might presume to mention one quality more conspicuous in 
him than another, it would be his regard to American 

62 




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youth. To testify our regard to him, we ask, sir, that the 
lectures of to-day may be dispensed with, in order that we 
may thus take measures to honor his memory. 

President King replied as follows : 

Young gentlemen of the College, I have listened with 
great sensibility to the request made in such fitting terms 
and in such a becoming manner, by Mr. Van Duzer, in 
behalf of his fellow-students, that I would consent to sus- 
pend the exercises of the College to-day, in respect to the 
memory of the great man deceased, Daniel Webster. 

I acquiesce at once in the request; for Daniel Webster 
was one well fitted to inspire American youth with admi- 
ration and respect; for he was a type of his country. Emi- 
nently American in mental and physical structure, massive, 
symmetrical and vigorous, alike in mind and in body — the 
child of the people — owing nothing to birth, fortune or 
station — educated in the common schools of New England 
— he was the founder of his own position. 

Gifted by God with a mighty intellect, and with a will 
scarcely less mighty, to train and improve the intellect, he 
had early seen the value of education, and had pursued 
unintermittingly the labor necessary for such a result. It 
is in this view especially becoming that youths, themselves 
engaged in the pursuits of learning, should seek to honor 
the memory of one who had so much dignified learning in 

I all its varied departments. This College too, which had 
honored itself by awarding one of its highest honors to 
the early public services of Daniel Webster, is fitly 
called upon to take its part in the expression of the na- 
tion's grief. And well may the nation grieve. For under 
the broad canopy of heaven, there was not probably the 
superior in intellectual gifts and earnest patriotism, of 
Daniel Webster. 

63 



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This is not the time or the occasion for any review of 
his eminent career; but in ceding to your request, I cannot 
forbear to add that the scene of his death-bed, as shadowed 
forth to us by telegraph is not less becoming, and is even 
more impressive than his eminent public life. It was 
vouchsafed to him to look with steady eye and with un- 
shrinking reliance upon the merits of the Savior and on 
the approach of death. He saw that his days were num- 
bered. He himself calculated, almost grain by grain, the 
ebbing sands; not with any lingering hope or querulous 
regrets, but calmly, resignedly and as a Christian, well as- 
; sured that death was but a portal of everlasting life. His 
thoughts were of his family, of his friends, of his neighbors. 
He had given his life to his country. His last moments he 
gave to his family and to God. 

Young gentlemen, in the career of Daniel Webster, 
you have an example worthy to stimulate you in life. In 
his death-bed, consoled with all a Christian's graces, you 
have that which may smooth for you the path to the grave. 

The exercises of the College were suspended for the 
day. 

The Committee appointed to draft resolutions, reported 
the following : 

Whereas, It has pleased Heaven to strike with death 
' another of the greatest of our countrymen, we deem it not 
inappropriate to unite in the grief of our common country, 
by an expression of our sense of this event; therefore 

Resolved, That in him we believe our country to have 
lost its profoundest statesman; her constitution its ablest 
defender; her law its most intelligent advocate, and educa- 
tion one of its most valuable and illustrative ornaments. 

ci 








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Resolved, That while we acknowledge his greatness to 
be inimitable, we recognize in its formation elements 
worthy of most zealous emulation, an unbending will, un- 
tiring application, and a generous enthusiasm for noble 
principles which age could not chill. 

Resolved, That the honors unto- the memory of the illus- 
trious dead are to be estimated by the standard of his 
favorite author, Cicero—" Neque enim ulla res est, inqua 
proprius ad decorum numen virtus accedat humana, quam 
civitates aut condere novat aut conservare jam conditas; v 
and that we cannot more fittingly render these honors than 
by imitating the principles he defended. 

GEORGE W". DEAN, 
MARVIN R. VINCENT, 
LEWIS L. DELAFIELD, 
CHARLES N. CLARK, 

Committee. 



NEW ENGLAND SOCIETY. 

At a meeting of the Board of Officers of the New Eng- 
land Society of the city of New York, the following res- 
olutions were introduced by Charles A. Peabody, sec- 
onded by Simeon Draper, and adopted. 

Resolved, That the New England Society of New York, 
have heard with profound grief of the death of Daniel 
Webster, and offer their sympathy to their brethren of 
New England in this their great calamity. 

Resolved, That it is not the least of the claims of New 
England to the respect and honor which we bear to her, 
that she is the birth-place and the home of Daniel Web- 
ster — that in her schools he was educated — that in her 

65 5 





service his great abilities were disciplined and developed 
— that of her principles and of her institutions, he was at 
once the glory and the defence. 

Resolved, That while in common with all his country- 
men, we admire his great intellect, his vast acquirements, 
his wise statesmanship, and his wonderful eloquence, and 
honor his noble labors and high achievements for the pub- 
lic good, we desire also to commemorate the warmth of his 
heart, the generosity of his nature, the moral elevation of 
his character, and the perpetual sacrifices of his long life 
to friendship, to patriotism, to his love of his fellow-men. 

Resolved, That in the moral grandeur of his death, we re- 
joice to find the appropriate and glorious termination of a 
long life of duty, and of dignity, devoted to high objects, 
and affecting- great results, and that ever hereafter the 
heart of every true son of New England will cherish, with 
pious affection, the birth-place and the grave of Daniel 
Webster. 

Resolved, That a deputation from this Society will attend 
his funeral, and that all the members wear the usual badge 
of mourning. 

Resolved, That these resolutions be published in the pa- 
pers of the city, and a copy be transmitted to the family of 
the deceased. 

DELEGATION FROM THE BOARD OF OFFICERS. 

M. II. GRIXNELL, W. CURTIS NOYES, 



C. A. PEABODY, 


GEO. WARREN, 


C. A. STETSON, 


L. B. WYMAN, 


PAUL 


BABCOCK. 



FROM THE SOCIETY. 

JOHN THOMAS, THOMAS DUNHAM, 

VVM. M. EVARTS, H. F. TALLMADGE. 



M. H. GRINNELL, President. 



EPHRAIM KINGSBURY, Secretary. 

66 




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I 






THE WHIG GENERAL COMMITTEES. 

The two Whig General Committees, in Joint Com- 
mittee, met at the Broadway House, when George J. 
Cornell, the Chairman of the Senior General Committee, 
announced that the object of the meeting was to take suit- 
able action upon the intelligence of the death of Daniel 
Webster ; whereupon, Erastus Brooks. Chairman of the 
Committee of Democratic Whig Young Men, addressed 
the Committee, in substance, as follows : 

The appointed time of death has come to another of the 
distinguished sons of America. Daniel Webster, our 
countryman, illustrious at home, and renowned abroad, is 
dead. He was struck down, in the service of his country, 
at the head of the Department of State, at the age of three- 
score and ten years, nine months and a few days. But 
yesterday, his" name was enrolled on the scroll of history, 
as the greatest of living statesmen. To-day, in the sleep 
of death, he rests with his fathers, beneath the soil of his 
own New England home. New Hampshire gave him birth 
and education ; Massachusetts bestowed upon him multi- 
plied offices and honors ; but neither New Hampshire nor 
Massachusetts, the North nor the East, can lay exclusive 
claim to the name and fame of Daniel Webster. He was 
an American altogether, loving his New England home as 
a child loves its mother, but yet loving his country, and 
his whole country, more than the honored place of birth, 
the home of his adoption, or the chosen people whom he 
so long and faithfully served. He was known throughout 
the United States as "the Defender of the Constitution.' 7 

67 



<r 





Born before the peace of 1798, he grew up from infancy to 
old age with the nation. In its theory and in its practice, 
in its letter and in its spirit, in all that appertained to 
popular rights, State sovereignty and federal power, he 
knew the government thoroughly and altogether. The 
great and good men who sat in the convention which 
framed the Constitution, were his models of study. Ham- 
ilton, of our own New York, and Madison, of Virginia, 
were the especial objects of his admiration, for their pro- 
found thoughts and their earnest devotion to all that re- 
lated to the welfare of the people and the strength and 
endurance of the government. But the Constitution was 
the subject of his constant reflection for more than forty 
years, and the idol and delight of his heart, from the days 
he aspired to the public service. Though profoundly 
learned in the law, deeply read in scriptures, well versed 
in the science of all branches of political economy, imbued 
with all the charms of a poetic fancy and a splendid 
imagination, genial in domestic life, and brilliant and in- 
structive in social intercourse, it was as the great commen- 
tator of the American Constitution he was best known 
and most honored. He made that his morning study and 
his evening meditation, and upon it he has reared a monu- 
ment as enduring as time, and of imperishable glory. The 
statesman is dead ; but " I still live," were the last words 
of Daniel Webster, on that Sabbath day when, ere the 
morning sun appeared, his spirit winged its way from the 
shores of the resounding sea of his own beloved home, to 
the realms of that blessed and peaceful Paradise, to which, 
leaning in humble faith upon the " rod " and " staff" of the 
Almighty, he aspired. So, too, live the Constitution and 

I the Republic, each, let us hope, to grow in strength and 
68 
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I 



greatness so long as the American people are true to the 
services, the teachings, and the memory of Daniel Web- 
ster. 

Gentlemen, in the midst of summer, when the air was 
vocal with the music of birds, and filled with the aroma of 
roses — when the earth was beautiful with flowers, and 
green with verdure — we lost our long-loved and honored 
chieftain, Henry Clay. He sleeps in the bosom of his 
honored Kentucky. His grave is watched by the surviving 
partner of his long and eventful life, and by the children 
of his love. For his death, the signs of grief have not yet 
all faded away from our vision, nor have the sounds of 
woe all died upon our ears. The voice of sorrow still 
lingers upon the land, like the plaintive wail of death, for 
the loss of the gifted and the good, and, in the midst of 
our national calamity, the messenger of Death lays his icy 
hand upon yet another of our oldest and best public ser- 
vants. This one has failed in the midst of autumn, in the 
time of " the sere and yellow leaf," and in the season of 
natural decay. 

How calm his exit ! 
Night-dews fall not more gently to the ground, 
Nor weary, worn-out winds expire so soft. 
By unperceived degrees he wore away, 
Yet, like the sun, seemed larger at his setting. 

Let us thank God that the body alone is perishable, and 
that the good men do live after them. Had Providence 
so ordained its dispensation, that his life had been pro- 
longed, we should feel, in this hour of national difficulty, 
that such a pilot at the helm would have scattered all the 
storms which threaten to disturb the peace of the Repub- 
lic. Addressing his departed spirit, may I not say, as the 
bard of Scotland sung to England's great hero : 

69 












Hadst thou but lived, though stripped of power 

A watchman on the lonely tower, 

Thy thrilling trump had roused the land, 

When fraud or danger were at hand; 

By thee, as by the beacon light, 

Our pilots had kept course aright; 

As some proud column, though alone, 

Thy strength had propp'd the tottering throne. 

Now is the stately column broke, 

The beacon light is quenched in smoke, 

The trumpet's silver sound is still, 

The warder silent on the hill. 



Like Pitt and Fox, our great rival statesmen, Clay, 
Webster and Calhoun, now sleep together ; and in the 
graves of Kentucky, Massachusetts and South Carolina, 
may all their differences be buried forever. Of each and 
all of them, their countrymen all now proclaim : 

With more than mortal power endow'd, 
How high they soar'd above the-crowd, 
Their's was no common party race, 
Jostling by dark intrigue for place; 
Like fabled gods their mighty war 
Shook realms and nations in its jar; 
Beneath each banner proud to stand, 
Look'd up the noblest of the land, * * * 
Genius, and taste, and talent gone, 
Forever tonibYl beneath the stone, 
Where, taming thought to human pride, 
The mighty Chiefs sleep side by side, * * * 
The solemn echoes seem to cry, — 
" Here let their discord with them die; 
Speak not for these a separate doom, 
Whom fate made brothers in the tomb, 
But search the land of living men, 
Where shalt thou find the like again ?" 

After the address, Mr. Brooks offered the following 
resolutions : 

Resolved, That the two Whig General Committees of the 



70 



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City of New York .have received the intelligence of the 
death of Daniel Webster with sincere sorrow. We re- 
member him as that great Northern Light of our country, 
whose intelligent rays have shed an undimmed lustre upon 
the history of the United States, during forty years of 
labor in the public service. We remember him as the De- 
fender of the Constitution, when the great Charter of our 
Liberties has been assailed. We remember him as the 
Champion of the North, in the battle of the intellectual 
giants of the land, and as the assertor of Popular Liberty, 
the supporter of National Authority, and the friend of true 
State Sovereignty ; but especially do we respect and 
cherish his memory as the defender of the States of our 
" American Union, one and inseparable, now and forever," 
and as the successful advocate of" One Country, one Con- 
stitution, and one Destiny," for the whole American peo- 
ple." 

Resolved, That, as members of the Whig party of New 
York, we embrace this public opportunity to give our 
testimony to the many and faithful services of Daniel 
Webster to the Whigs of the Union — services which have 
enlarged our commerce, extended our manufactures, im- 
proved our agriculture, increased our capital, and benefited 
our labor. We know and appreciate the advantages of 
works like these ; and while they prompt us to remember 
and admire Mr. Webster, as one of the great leaders and 
champions of the Whig party, they at the same time make 
us deeply feel the irreparable loss which the Whig party 
and the country have sustained in the death of one of its 
greatest statesmen and truest patriots. 

Resolved, That these Committees deeply sympathize with 
Massachusetts in the death of her most honored and 

71 



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— SaBfe: - 




lamented son, and that, as citizens of New York, we claim 
the privilege of sharing in the public grief for the death 
of one who, though born in the 'North, possessed a heart 
and mind as boundless as the whole Republic. 

Resolved, That, as a mark of respect to the memory of 
the deceased, and of regard to the surviving family, a 
Committee of Thirteen be appointed to attend the funeral 
of the deceased, at Marshfield, on Friday next, and that 
the members of the two General Committees go into 
mourning, by wearing crape upon the left arm for the 
space of thirty days. 

Hon. J. B. Varnum, of the Fifteenth Ward, seconded 
the resolutions, and made some appropriate remarks, after 
which the two Committees adjourned. The following 
Committees were appointed to attend the funeral cere- 
monies at Marshfield : 

COMMITTEE IN BEHALF Ol-' THE WHIG GENERAL COMMITTEE. 

LINUS W. STEVENS, WM. II. ARTHUR, 

JAMES KENNEDY, M. D., ROBERT T. HAWS, 

WILLIS PATTEN, GEO. H. FRANKLIN, 

PHILIP J. MONROE. 

COMMITTEE IN BEHALF OF THE YOUNG MEN'S GENERAL COMMITTEE. 



NATHAN C. ELY, 
DANIEL BOWLEY, 
J. H. STERLE, 



ROBERT G. CAMPBELL, 
CHAS. M. SIMONSON, 
J. W. SCHENCK. 



DEMOCRATIC GENERAL COMMMITTEE. 

At a special meeting of the Democratic Republican Gen- 
eral Committee of the city of New York, held at Tammany 
Hall, on Monday, October 25, 1852, D. E. Sickles, Esq., 

72 



J 




offered the following preamble and resolutions, which were 
unanimously adopted and ordered to be published : 

In obedience to the will of our constituents, the Demo- 
cratic Republican electors of the city and county of New 
York, friendly to the maintenance of harmony between 
the several states of this Union, and to the platform of 
principles adopted by the National Convention, held at 
Baltimore, on the first clay of June, 1852, as the most effi- 
cient means of preserving the same, we, the Democratic 
Republican General Committee of the city of New York, 
have unanimously 

Resolved, That esteeming civil liberty as the first of 
earthly blessings, and the Constitution of these United 
States as the ark of its safety for our own countrymen, and 
of its promise to the nations yet lingering in political bond- 
age, we receive, with emotions of profoundest sorrow, the 
melancholy announcement that Daniel Webster, who was 
but yesterday the most eminent citizen of this republic, 
aud of that Constitution the most illustrious defender, has 
ceased to live. 

Resolved, That as in life, when he stood forth a champion 
of the Constitution and a savior of the Union, we compro- 
mised all differences upon minor points of opinion, and 
yielded to Daniel Webster all that political organization 
would permit — admiration for his majestic intellect ; ap- 
plause for the brilliant display of his genius ; gratitude, 
deep and sincere for his patriotic services ; so, in this sad 
and solemn hour, when the separation of his mighty spirit 
from earth has obliterated forever all party lines from be- 
tween us, we record the heart-felt expression of our mourn- 
ful regret for his loss, and pray our brethren in affliction 

73 








m 







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— the friends of freedom throughout the world — to receive 
and enshrine it with their own. 

Resolved, That a Committee, to consist of one member 
from each ward, be appointed, whose duty it shall be to 
co-operate with, and assist in such public demonstration as 
may be determined upon by our citizens, or the municipal 
authorities, in honor of the illustrious deceased. 

Whereupon, the following persons were appointed such 
Committee : 



DANIEL E. SICKLES, 
JAMES B. HETHERINGTON, 
FREDERICK L. VULTEE, 
WILLIAM D. KENNEDY, 
DENNIS GARRISON, 
GILBERT C. DEAN, 
WILLIAM N.; McINTIRE, 

anthony s. wood, 
dennis McCarthy, 



richard t. mulligan, 
john d. dixon, 
richard b. connolly, 
charles francis, 
william l. wiley, 
john m. Mcdonald, 
william c. seaman, 
lorenzo b. shepherd, 
theodore martine. 



AUGUSTUS SCHELL, Chairman. 



JONAS B. PHILLIPS, 
DR. JOSEPH HILTON, 

Secretaries. 



CONSUL OF GREAT BRITAIN. 

The British Consul issued the following circular, ad- 
dressed to British shipmasters : 

Her Britannic Majesty's Consulate, 
New York, Oct. 27, 1852. 
Her Majesty's Consul respectfully requests all com- 

74 



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manders of British ships in the port of New York, to wear 
their flags at half mast, on Friday, the 29th instant, the 
mournful day of the obsequies of the illustrious statesman, 
Daniel Webster, late Secretary of State of the United 
States. 

ANTHONY BARCLAY. 



WEBSTER GENERAL COMMITTEE 

of new york. 

Committee Rooms, 
New York, Oct. 25. 

At a meeting of the Webster General Committee of 
New York, held at their rooms in this city, at the Stuyve- 
sant Institute, on Monday evening, the 25th instant, the 
following resolves were unanimously adopted : 

The death of Daniel Webster is to us an occasion of 
speechless sorrow, and the tribute due to his memory to be 
rendered rather by the veiling than the expression of emo- 
tions. Our tears are mingled with those of a nation who 
loved him more than they knew, and leaned upon his true, 
unvanquished arm, with a trust of which they were uncon- 
scious till its removal. The national loss is felt to be one 
which Omniscience alone can measure. When perilous 
dissensions arise within, or rumors of war disquiet us from 
without, we shall hereafter feel that Webster is gone, 
upon whom we were wont to repose the whole burden of 
patriotic anxiety, as upon a Gor> — one seven times tried, 
and never found wanting. 

75 





In one sense, the stupendous calamity falls alike upon 
every inhabitant of the Republic, which has owed its 
strength and greatness so largely to him, and so often been 
saved by him from threatened destruction. In a sense, it 
falls upon the family of man, extinguishing a light that 
cheered the anxious watchers for a dawn of real liberty, 
in distant nations, under the whole heaven. But to those 
who knew and loved him, and rejoiced in his glory — who 
had been accustomed through life to look to his lips for 
political wisdom, and to rely on his unfathomed resources 
for assurance in every public emergency — who had cher- 
ished his magnanimous character as their ideal of excel- 
lence, and stood by him as the foremost of mankind, re- 
gardless of party, interest or obloquy, to the last— to 
these, to us, the loss of Daniel Webster is a personal be- 
reavement, similar to no other, and attended by consider- 
ations of mournful regret, multiplied and peculiar . 

But it becomes the mourners of our illustrious friend to 
contemplate his death in the light with which his own sub- 
lime example has invested it, and to thank God, who made 
him in His own image, that his transcendent qualities were 
preserved to crown his life with a dying so worthy of it— 
so satisfactory to the clearest wishes of the friend, the pa- 
triot, and the Christian— so ample in assurance of a better 
resurrection. Nor can those who loved him forget to ren- 
der thanks that it was granted him, through his own vnst 
sacrifice and labor, to realize his own memorable prayer, 
and with his last feeble and lingering glance, behold the 
gorgeous ensign of the Republic still full high advanced, 
its arms and trophies streaming in their original lustre — 
not one stripe erased or polluted, nor a single star ob- 
scured. 



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It becomes us with deep humiliation to implore, and in 
the strength of truth to hope, that the counsels and char- 
acter of the great departed may now be effectually pon- 
dered by his people. That delusion and corruption may re- 
ceive a more fatal overthrow from his death-bed than here- 
tofore from all the fields of his fame ; and that, although 
we may not hope to see another Webster, it may please 
the Creator of men to give us public servants worthy to 
walk in his footsteps, with public virtue sufficient to dis- 
cern and reward their merits. 

We tender to the mourning survivors of Daniel Web- 
ster's family, the assurance of sympathies which we feel 
but too well, and of personal regard with which we cannot 
choose but cherish all who remain to us from him. May 
their grief be solaced by the sad condolence of a mourning 
nation, and raised from undue depression by the fellowship 
of his greatness who was their head. May their lives on 
earth be cheered by the abiding sympathy and regard of 
their countrymen, for his sake, and their posterity worthily 
imitate his virtues and inherit his fame. 

Upon the adoption of the above, it was further ordered 
that a copy of these resolutions be transmitted to the fam- 
ily of the illustrious deceased. It was also resolved, that 
the members of the Committee, with its sub-Committees, 
agents and friends, be recommended to adopt the usual 
badge of mourning on the left arm, for thirty clays. 



CHARLES L. YOSE, Chairman. 



GEO. A. HOOD, Secretary. 






f: 



77 




Mr. J. P. Hall, United States District Attorney, rose 
and delivered the following eulogium on the lamentable 
news of the death of Hon. Daniel Webster : 

May it please your honor — Since the last adjournment 
of this court, the intelligence, sad, but not unexpected, has 
reached us that Daniel Webster is no more. He died 
yesterday morning in the full possession of all his mental 
powers, exhibiting in his death, as he had always exhibit- 
ed in life, the entire superiority of his mind over all cor- 
poreal attributes. When we consider his greatness as a 
man, his public services, his glowing patriotism, his politi- 
cal distinction, his official station, his matchless eloquence, 
and as lawyers, his professional eminence, which placed 
him without dispute, and beyond doubt, at the very head 
of the Ameriean bar, it seems fit that the occasion of his 
death should not be suffered, by this tribunal, to pass by 
without some special notice of the event, and some evi- 
dence to endure upo'n its records, of the high considera- 
tions with which he was here regarded. 

I rise not sir, to pronounce a eulogium upon this great 
man. " The world knows that by heart," and a nation's 
tears are at this moment poured out upon the bier, where 
he lies in the solemnity, the repose, and majesty of his 
death. 

He died, sir, as we all could have wished him to die, 
when the inevitable hour should come— his profound intel- 
lect clear, serene and undoubted ; triumphing over all the 

78 



n-iT,.i",i 




infirmities of physical decay, and relying upon those relig- 
ious consolations which are the only solace in the dread 
hour of mortal dissolution. 

I knew Mr. Webster well. I had the honor of his ac- 
quaintance, and hope it is not too much to say, of his 
friendship, for more than a quarter of a century. It was 
his counsel and advice which led me to this great city, 
where I met with professional encouragement far beyond 
my deserts. I have seen him under every variety of cir- 
cumstances—in the secluded hours of consultation, where 
his client's interests seemed to absorb all his remarkable 
power of attention — I have seen him in the midst of his 
family circles, dispensing and enjoying a genial hospitality; 
I have partaken of his innocent and manly amusements; I 
have walked with him alone at twilight upon the shore of 
the " far .resounding sea ;" I have seen him in the forum, 
and in the Senate Chamber — his gigantic intellect tower- 
ing above all his compeers — and under no circumstance, 
nor on any occasion, did I know him to forget his own 
dignity, or cease to impress, if not overwhelm, with the 
sense of his greatness. From his lips I never heard an ir- 
reverent, a profane, or an unseemly expression ; while his 
playful wit, his deep philosophy, his varied acquirements, 
and unrivaled powers of conversation, are among the rich- 
est treasures of my recollection. 

He has gone down to the grave full of years, and full of 
honors. His voice will no longer be heard in the court 
room, or in the halls of legislative debate ; but his exam- 
ple still remains, and his fame, undying and wide-spread 
as the world, will be cherished among the chief treasures 
of his country. His sun is set, but it leaves behind that 
long and luminous track, which shows what a glorious orb 

79 




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it is, which has descended beyond the horizon. The phi- 
losopher, the patriot, the " great man eloquent," has gone 
to his " recompense of reward," and there remains not upon 
the whole earth, another intellect to supply his place. 

I move you, sir, in consideration of our professional loss, 
and the national bereavement, that this court do now ad- 
journ, and that the cause of its adjournment be entered 
upon its records, to remain there in perpetual remembrance 
of the sad event. 

The Hon. Judge Betts said : — 

The Court cannot fail to receive the announcement of 
this solemn event without feeling a degree of sensibility 
equal to that of any body in this community. I have per- 
sonally long known Mr. Webster ; I have enjoyed many 
opportunities of witnessing his great talents on a variety 
of occasions, and in various situations. It is not the prac- 
tice of this court to speak at length, upon occasions of this 
description, with respect to our own opinions of individu- 
als who are the subject of public notice, and I shall receive 
the motion on the part of the District Attorney, and am at 
the same time most solicitous to express my sympathy with 
the public at large upon this occasion. It is befitting and 
proper that a testimony of earnest respect should be paid to 
the name and character of the individual named, and the 
Circuit Court will stand adjourned until eleven o'clock 
to-morrow. As the District Attorney has requested, the 
occasion of the adjournment will be put upon the records ; 
and any gentleman present who has any resolution pre- 
pared appropriate to the occasion, expressing the senti- 
ments of the bar with reference to the talented deceased, it 
shall be inserted upon the records. 

so 




m 



V '-'■ 



Mr. Staples rose to second the adoption of the resolu- 
lntions and said : — 

It is not the time nor the occasion for an expression of' 
nor to pronounce a eulogy upon the character of Daniel 
Webster ; and if it were, I am not the man to do it. A 
great man has fallen among us. " A great name has fallen 
in Israel" — in this Republic. Great in his intellectual and 
in his moral powers ; gifted by nature beyond most men. 
And yet this is only part of the character which he finally 
reared. He added great industry. And let it be remem- 
bered by all, that the gifts of nature are of little use, ex- 
cept followed by industry. The great difference between 
men is caused by industry and direction of efforts. 

I knew Mr. Webster early in life. At the commence- 
ment of war with England, I met him, and the course of 
events then led me to a more intimate knowledge of his 
character than I could otherwise have had. I have ever 
been his warmly attached friend, but not his blind friend. 
I have often met him in consultatiou, and never without 
being enlightened by contact with his mind. The time 
will soon come when his character shall be given to the 
world ; and let him who undertakes that task, study pro- 
foundly, not only the character of Mr. Webster, but the 
events of the country with which his life is so intimately 
connected — and so his life will be a lasting benefit to the 
country. 

The Court then adjourned. 



SUPREME COURT. 

Mr. Bradley rose, and addressed the Court as follows : 

May it please the Court: — A melancholy event 
which, at the adjournment on Friday, was too probable, 

81 6 



, ipse' JM: ', - 




rr 



m ^ 






-■-... ^rC-JI«^>- - 




has now occurred. A great man, one of the foremost of 
American statesmen, and the foremost of modern orators, 
has died— hut died, as all men wish to die, at his own 
home, surrounded by his family and friends, in the matu- 
rity of years, his faculties unimpaired, and their lustre un- 
tarnished. 

This is not the time, or place, for fitting eulogy. That 
duty belongs to eloquent lips and another occasion. Still, 
a few words may not be inappropriate here. 

Although educated to the law, still municipal law was 
not the field of his peculiar fame. At his entrance upon 
active life, great questions were agitating the country, 
which fastened forever his attention upon public affairs. 
Our then little navy— next the embargo— then the second 
war with Great Britain, and, after its close, questions of 
finance, of currency, and of commerce — foreign as well as 
internal— mingled the pursuits of the lawyer with those 
of the statesman— thus the one giving keenness to his 
argument, the other, enlargement to his view. The noble 
instrument, to which topics like these more or less re- 
ferred, he ever regarded with reverence, as the greatest of 
human achievements in government, as the only bond of 
our Union, and the only hope of our freedom. He ex- 
plored all its recesses, analyzed all its provisions, and 
imbued himself, through and through, with its spirit ; and 
in all debates connected with it, his feelings and affections 
kept company with his judgment and understanding. 
Though, in other departments of affairs, equal to any, here 
he achieved a fame all his own ; here he won his brightest 
renown, rendered the country his most valuable services, 
and united, indissolubly, his own with the other great 
American names. 



L 



82 



iffr 11 ' ■*" 






It is not forgotten, nor is American history likely ever 
to forget, how closely, twenty or twenty-two years ago, 
the country approached the precipice of disunion, and how 
near it came to tumbling (if I may use his words again) 
into the dark abyss below! The tariff laws of that day 
brought to the manufacturing States great relief, but to 
the uninanufacturing, great burdens. I know not how 
much or how little of exaggeration there may have been 
in the statements, then common, that, under their influence 
Charleston had come to own but a single mast, that her 
wharves were all deserted, and the grass springing up in 
her most frequented streets. But it is clear that the dis- 
affection was general and deep. The value of the Union 
began to be weighed, and plans of secession to be formed. 
And while, with these views, the entire South felt a 
sympathy more or less feverish, South Carolina was united 
in them, almost as one man. And at the time to which I 
refer, the noblest of her sons presided, and another son, 
hardly less noble, represented her in the Senate. Jin in- 
dividual, bom farther north, a native of one JVeio England 
State, and adopted by another, happened to be there also. 

In some rambling debate on the public lands, the South- 
ern Senator took occasion, on full deliberation, and in an 
elaborate argument, to introduce the topic of secession, in 
all its fair or foul proportions, on that floor. One — but 
no second — night, that argument had repose. On the 
morrow it was met, examined, answered. And the fame, 
and the burning words of that answer, have gone forth to 
all lands where the English tongue is spoken. I know 
not — for who can tell ? — with what emotions he who pre- 
sided there, looked down on that wild collision, where all 
the fierce momentum came from one direction, and all the 

83 








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-- ■ ■ 



fragments flew off in the other. But he resigned — de- 
scended from his lofty station, and, at the bidding of his 
native State, took his place on that floor, to advocate her 
cause, to vindicate her fame, and to repel, if he could, her 
foes. And in the abilities, the public services, the stain- 
less life, the entire devotion of mind and bodv to the 
cause, and in the subtle, yet rapid and fiery eloquence of 
that great man, all felt that the senator from Massachu- 
setts, now, had a foeman, more worthy of his steel. 

Meanwhile, events elsewhere were taking a fearful turn. 
The Nullifying Convention had been summoned, and the 
ordinance for secession passed. The blood of Sumpter 
and Mariox, and of the elder Hayne, was up, and beating 
high and hot, in the veins of their misguided descendants. 
And the muster and the drill were seen, and the drum and 
fife were heard, in the cities and towns, and along the 
vallies, and over all the hills of South Carolina. The in- 
fection was spreading southward into Georgia, and north- 
ward into the other Carolina ; and even the high loyalty 
of the Old Dominion herself began to falter. 

Still, a stern old man, then at the head of national 
affairs, all whose words had meaning, and whose convic- 
tions were actions, had said : <; The Union — it must and 
shall be preserved !" And into the Senate, a bill had 
found its way, enabling that same old man, with army and 
navy, to preserve it. While Senators, of less renown, 
were conducting the high debate which followed, ivho, that 
then felt, can ever forget the suspense, the expectation, 
with which the hour was everywhere awaited, when the 
great chiefs themselves should meet in the conflict ? They 
met — and a momentary relief came, when it was found 
that the bill had become a law ; and that an attack upon 









iMt:,^:-:a^i2^ 



W^&& 







it, with an eloquence as keen and as bright as the scimitar 
of Saladin, was repelled by another eloquence, as massive 
as the battle-axe wielded by Richard of the Lion Heart. 

Still, the relief wns only momentary. Passions, like 
those then raging, though they might at first have been 
prevented, were not now to be stilled by words — at least 
not by such words as theirs. The animosity was too deep, 
and the alienation was too wide. And men, everywhere, 
looked, with trepidation and alarm, for the day when they 
should feel the foundations of the State quake and heave 
beneath their feet. 

Then another person appeared upon the scene. He, too, 
had seen public service ; he, too, had acquired large re- 
nown ; he, too, had eloquence high as theirs — yet all un- 
like. While he appealed to pure reason, his voice could 
yet stir the blood, like a trumpet, or, when needful, soothe 
its violence, like a lute. Forth, then, from his retirement, 
he — the Great Pacificator — came. And all this mad pre- 
paration for strife, and blood, and disunion, subsided and 
vanished, under the influence of tones of persuasion, with 
words of wisdom and peace. The law, which had caused 
the discord, was changed ; and the great leaders, who, 
though goaded into hostility by sincere opinions urged too 
far, had, all the while, been patriots and brothers at heart, 
now once again joined hands, continuing to serve their 
common country, and remaining brothers and patriots 
still. 

Since these events, many years have rolled away. And 
he of the Hermitage, and he of Fort Hill, and he of Ash- 
land, and, at last, he of Marshfield, all are gone — gone in 
every thing but the record of their deeds, the remains of 
their words, and the gratitude of their country. 

85 



h> 




since the surviving two of that glorious four, whom the 
pencil loves still to represent standing at the feet of John 
Hancock, on the 4th July, 1776, unfolding, for signature, 
the Declaration of American Independence, died on the 
fiftieth anniversary of that day and event. Not many of 
us here are yet too young to remember the deep emotion 
excited throughout all the land by a coincidence so extra- 
ordinary. Everywhere, the great and eloquent, who sur- 
vived, were called on to utter fitting eulogies for the elo- 
quent and great who had just departed. Of course — of 
course, Faneuil Hall was not deserted or silent then. Of 
all his kith and kin op the Anglo-Saxon eace, none was 
so fit as he — whose loss we now deplore — to speak to that 
theme in that ancient hall. Having sketched the lives of 
those great old men, their struggles, their virtues, their 
triumphs, and, finally, their glorious death, in words such 
as none but he could use, he caught up the last words of 
the anthem, which had died away on the lips of the choir 
as he began, and exclaimed, (as, perhaps, we now might 
exclaim,) their bodies are buried in peace, but their 
names liveth evermore ! And the great oration swept 
along, drawing high augury " from the honors that were 
paid and the tears that were shed when the founders of 
the Republic died, that the Republic itself might be im- 
mortal," and closed in words, how fitting then, and not 
inappropriate now — "Auspicious omens cheer us ; great 
examples are before us. Our own firmament shines brightly 
on our path. Washington is in the clear upper sky. 
These other stars have now joined the American constel- 
lation ; they circle round their centre ; and the heavens 
beam with new light." 

86 

ii ii i i i i i— — — -— — ■■'■ — — B 



.;. 










Iii obedience, therefore, to the usage which prevails on 
like melancholy occasions, and to feelings which, though 
such usage were wanting, would begin one, I move that 
this court do now adjourn. 

The Hon. Wm. Kent seconded the motion. 

Justice Edwards said: 

The Court concur readily in the propriety of the motion 
which has been made. Mr. Webster has, for a long period, 
stood high in the front rank of our senators and statesmen ; 
his reputation was not only great here, but it was also great 
in other lands. In his negotiations with foreign powers, 
at those times when our country was agitated by difficult 
and trying questions, he exhibited distinguished ability, 
and his efforts were eminently successful. In times of do- 
mestic agitation, he was always a firm friend and steadfast 
advocate of our Union. His public speeches and ad. 
dresses— although many of them were delivered on polit- 
ical questions in which the nation was divided — have been 
universally admired for the beauty, simplicity and strength 
of their style, and for their compact and massive argu- 
ment ; and those splendid orations, which he uttered in 
commemoration of great national events, will be read and 
admired as long as the events themselves shall be regarded 
with interest. His friends and his countrymen have the 
consolation that he died at a ripe age, in the full possession 
of his intellect, and while engaged in the active discharge 
of his duties. 

The Clerk will enter the order for the adjournment of 
this Court until to-morrow. 



87 






33 ^S> § Si 




SUPERIOR COURT. 

Before Hon. Judges Duer, Campbell and Bosworth. 

On the opening of the Court, 

Daniel D. Lord, Esq., addressing the bench said : 

May it please your honor — Since the adjournment 
of the Court on Saturday last, news has been received of 
the death of the Hon. Daniel Webster, and as a mark of 
respect to his memory, I beg to move, on behalf of the Bar, 
that this Court adjourn. 

They owe it to themselves; they owe it to his reputation 
as a lawyer ; his reputation as a statesman, to the great 
talents which he has in every station exhibited, and it 
seems to me they owe it to the great achievements he has 
performed in behalf of our common country. 

It seems improper at present, while the emotion is so 
strong, and the deep feeling of regret so fresh, to go into 
any details of the character of the illustrious deceased. 
Suffice it that the country never produced another mind 
so massive — so comprehensive — no other man's intellect 
seemed so fitted to expound American principles to Ameri- 
can citizens. He would now only move that the following 
minute be entered on the records of the Court : 

The death of Daniel Webster was suggested to the 
Court, as having occurred since its last adjournment, and 
thereupon it was moved, on behalf of the B ar, 

That the Bench and the Bar receive with sentiments of 
the deepest regret, the information of this loss to the pro- 
fession of the law, and their common country. 

That they hold, in the highest respect, the learning, the 
eloquence, the acquirements, and the achievements of the 



J 








illustrious deceased, and glory in them, for the reputation 
of their profession, and of their country. 

That, as a mark of their respect, the Court do now ad- 
journ. 

James Girard, Esq., seconded the motion. He thought 
that at present silence was more expressive than words. 
His Honor Judge Duer said : 

It is hardly necessary for me to say that I entirely con- 
cur in the expression of the bar, and that the Court con- 
sider the adoption of the minute bur. as a fitting tribute of 
respect to the memory of the illustrious statesman, the 
greatest lawyer, and most eloquent orator the bar ever pro- 
duced. The Court is therefore adjourned until to-morrow 
morning. 

Proclamation was accordingly made, and (he Court ad- 



journed 



COMMON PLE AS. 

Before Hon. Daniel P. Ingraham and Lewis B. Wood- 
ruff. 

The Court having learned with deep regret the death of 
Hon. Daniel Webster, Secretary of State of the United 
States, do order, as a mark of respect to the illustrious 
deceased, that this Court do now forthwith adjourn. 
[Extract from the minutes.] 

EDWIN F. COREY, 

Deputy Clerk. 

MARINE COURT. 

Present — Judge Lynch and Judge Cowles. 

After the opening of the Court, and calling the names of 

89 








the jurors, a motion was made by Wm. H. Woodman, Esq., 
for adjournment, on account of the death of Mr. Webster. 

Mr. Woodman rose and said : 

May it please the Court — I rise to move the adjourn- 
ment of this Court, as a mark of respect for the memory of 
Daniel Webster. News has reached us of the death of 
this eminent statesman and profound lawyer. I am aware 
that nothing which may be said by me can elevate his 
character higher than it now stands in the hearts and 
minds of this assemblage, and of all his countrymen. It 
is fitting, however, that we should suspend, for a time, our 
customary avocations upon the decease of him who has so 
long, so faithfully, and so efficiently served his country. 
Within a few short months, three of our ablest and most 
experienced statesmen, representing collectively the diver- 
sified interests of the whole nation, have passed away. Let 
us therefore hope that their great and good deeds may live 
after them, and ever tend to cement more closely the 
union of the States, and kindle a new patriotism of the 
American people. And although the entire country is 
now filled with sadness at the loss of one of her best men, 
let us still be consoled by the reflection that the last mo- 
ments of Webster were characterized by the same noble 
simplicity and lofty wisdom which marked his whole life. 

Judge Lynch replied, that in accordance with the feel- 
ings of the Court, as well as its duty, an adjournment 
would be made. That a personal acquaintance with the 
illustrious deceased, as well as respect for the memory of 
one holding the high station of Secretary of State, at the 
time of his death, prompted the Court to adjourn, even at 
the risk of some inconvenience to those having business 
before it. 



90 



m 




The Court was then adjourned until Tuesday, the 26th 
instant. 



UNITED STATES CIRCUIT COURT. 

At the opening of the Court, Justice Nelson presiding-, 
Mr. Samuel Stevens rose and said : 

May it please the Couet — Since the adjournment of 
this Court on Saturday evening;, a member of our profes- 
sion, who, as a jurist, had no superior in profound wisdom, 
deep and varied learning, and in clear, forcible and con- 
vincing eloquence, in this or any other country — who, as a 
statesman, justly occupied the highest position in the coun- 
cils of this nation, and the largest space in the confidence 
and affections of the people of the United States, has de- 
parted this life. 

Daniel Webster died at Marshfield, a few minutes be- 
fore three o'clock, yesterday morning. 

The present year has been singularly fraught with mel- 
ancholy events, both in this country and in England. 

Scarcely three months have elapsed since the nation was 
called upon to deplore and lament the death of Henry 
Clay. 

It is no injustice to others, sir, to say that those two 
great men, for the last forty years, have acted the most 
important parts in the councils of this nation; and that, to 
their patriotism and their wisdom, this country is deeply 
indebted for the stability of its government and institu- 
tions, and for the unexampled prosperity and happiness of 
its people. 

England, too, during this year, has been called upon to 
mourn the loss of two of her most distinguished sons, Sir 
Robert Peel and the Duke of Wellington. 

91 




It is some consolation to us, sir, while we most deeply 
deplore the loss of our two great statesmen and jurists, 
that they were called to their last rest, full of years, pos- 
sessing the entire confidence and deep affection of the peo- 
ple of the United States; with well and faithfully earned 
honors thickly clustering around them. 

As an evidence of our heart-felt appreciation of the great 
loss which our profession and our country have sustained 
in the death of Mr. Webster, and as a mark of our never 
dying respect for his worth and his memory, I move, sir, 
that this Court do now adjourn. 

To which Mr. Justice Nelson responded as follows: 

The Court readily acquiesce in the propriety of this mo- 
tion. The long and eminent life of Mr. Webster in the 
profession, and in the public councils of the nation, well 
entitle his memory to this mark of respect from his profes- 
sional brethren and the Court. It is not too much to say 
that, in our profession, which he loved, he had no superior 
in this or any other country. 

We shall direct the adjournment of the Court agreeable 
to the request of the Bar, and that the proceedings be en- 
tered upon the minutes. 

Judge Hall said he was well aware that, on ordinary 
occasions of this character, it would be most appropriate 
for him to remain silent, and leave to the presiding judge 
the expression of the sentiments and sympathies of the 
Court. But having been so recently the personal associate 
and official colleague of Mr. Webster, he could not refrain 
from declaring his concurrence in the sentiments already 
expressed, as well as his deep sympathy with those who 
felt most keenly the afflicting dispensation which had taken 

92 





from us one whose genius, and intellect, and eloquence, and 
learning, eminently entitled him to rank, by common con- 
sent, as the profoundest American lawyer, and the ablest 
American statesman. 

SUPREME COURT-WESTERN CIRCUIT. 

At the opening of the Court, his Honor Judge Johnson 
made the following remarks: 

Gentlemen op the Bar, and Gentlemen of the Gr and 
Jury and Petit Jury : " Daniel Webster died at two 
minutes before three this morning,'' was the brief an. 
nouncement yesterday. Though not unexpected, it was a 
startling announcement, full of solemn and mournful sig- 
nificance. 

Daniel Webster is dead ! The great defender and ex- 
pounder of the Constitution; the statesman of world-wide 
fame ; the profound lawyer ; the matchless orator ; the 
mightiest created intellect of his age, is now no more ! 

When that subtle and mysterious essence which is the life 
of our corporeal frame departs from the least distinguished 
among us, and leaves that wonderful machine, which it 
was wont to impel to such ceaseless activity, an inanimate 
clod, we pause and ponder upon the event, and give, at 
least, a passing consideration to the deep lesson it teaches. 
But when the greatest, the most distinguished, are stricken 
down— when the greater lights in our firmament go out 
suddenly, and darkness falls on our pathway, the event 
arrests our course. We pause in our pursuits; we turn 
from our avocations; we look about with unwonted appre- 
hension, and give more earnest heed to the warning. 

Daniel Webster has long been the common property 
of his country. His fame is a common inheritance, dear 

93 






I 



rlN 



to all; and his death will be felt as a national bereave- 
ment. 

But this is no time to pronounce his eulogy. The mourn- 
ful event is too recent, the blow too stunning, the wound 
too fresh, for careful and studied treatment. 

As a lawyer, he towered pre-eminent in his profession. 
He had apparently explored the height and depth, the 
length and breadth of each system of jurisprudence, and 
mastered its most recondite elements and principles. He 
could, with the utmost facility, seize the profound as well 
as the most subtle principles, and exhibit them with the 
plainness and distinctness of the most trite maxims. 

His forensic efforts are destined to become not only 
models of style and arrangement, but mines stored with 
profound legal lore, as well for the lawyer of ripe expe- 
rience as for the student, for all time. 

Whether his fame shall be the more conspicuous as a 
lawyer or a statesman, and whether he shall have any rival 
as either, time alone can determine. But in the wonder- 
ful combination and versatility of the statesman, and the 
lawyer, and the orator, his fame has no rival to dread. 

It may be that he would have been found wanting in the 
skill and genius to model and construct the ship of State, 
had he been called to that task; but there he was untried, 
and judgments may vary — but when she was once launched 
and under way, that his was pre-eminently the skill and 
genius to guide and direct her on her great voyage, safely 
and surely, none will doubt. 

When the sea was calm and the gale prosperous, he was 
watchful and provident, and none questioned his ability or 
foresight. And when the tempest came, and the vessel 
was driven from her course, and the guiding stars refused 



94 

■■■ ■ ■ ■■ —— a— 1 



seu 







their friendly light, and the breakers were heard dashing 
ominously upon the shore, if his hand was upon the helm, 
or his voice of counsel or command heard above the tumult, 
all felt that the good ship was safe and would speedily re- 
gain her appointed course. 

When such a one departs, to return no more forever, it 
is most meet that the hum and confusion of business should 
cease, that the tribunals of justice should suspend their 
investigations and withhold their sentence, and close their 
halls for a brief season, that each may take the solemn 
lesson to heart, and that grief may have its silent way. 

Thanks to a merciful Providence, though he has departed, 
his lessons of wisdom still survive, and shall outlast, in the 
hearts of the living, all the inscriptions upon brass and 
marble. 

His learning, his sage counsels, his wise admonitions, 
are still left for our instruction and guidance; and may 
they remain forever to adorn the annals of our jurispru- 
dence, and to strenghten the bonds of peace and the links 
of our Union. 

The Court, therefore, on its own motion, orders an ad- 
journment. 



At a meeting of the Bar, the following resolutions, re- 
ported by E. D. Smith, Esq., were adopted: 

Resolved, That the members of the Bar of this county 
have heard of the decease of the Honorable Daniel Web- 
ster, late Secretary of State, with profound emotions of 
sorrow; that we have witnessed his career at the Bar of 
the country with great respect and admiration; and we re- 
gard him as the noblest and most eminent specimen of an 
American lawyer. For about half a century he has been 

95 




s-.e 




among the brightest ornaments of the legal profession, and 
has illustrated to the world, more than any other man of 
his generation, the intrinsic value of that profession to a 
free country, in supporting the principles of constitutional 
freedom, and the equality and sacredness of political and 
civil rights. Whatever difference we may entertain in 
regard to his political opinions, we all bow to the majesty 
of his genius, the commanding character of his intellectual 
greatness, and to the purity of his intentions. His death 
has created a vacancy among the intellects, the lawyers, 
the orators, and the statesmen of the world that no man 
can fill. Since the American Revolution, no man has 
arisen who has so much exalted and adorned the American 
character as Daniel Webster. No page of the history of 
the American Republic will be brighter than that which 
records his achievements in defence of the Constitution of 
his country, and in support of the Union, and the just 
authority of the general government. 

As a statesman, he has filled a large space in the atten- 
tion and respect of his countrymen and of other nations. 
No man has more impressed his sentiments on the Amer- 
ican mind. The patriotism concentrated in his noble aph- 
orisms — "Our country, our whole country, and nothing 
but our country," " Liberty and union now and forever, 
one and inseparable." and others, has contributed to bind 
the affections of the American people to their government 
and to the Union more, probably, than it has been the for- 
tune of any of his cotemporaries to accomplish. He has 
died at an auspicious time, when he had the universal re- 
spect of his countrymen more than at any other period in 
his life; and he has had his wish, that when his eyes should 
be turned for the last time to behold the sun in the heavens, 



nuimwal 




he might not see him shining on the broken and disbanded 
fragments of a once glorious Union. 

Resolved, That we will concur with our fellow-citizens in 
such ceremonies as may be appropriate to mark the uni- 
versal respect so deeply felt, and so justly due to the tal- 
ents, patriotism and worth of the deceased. 

Resolved, That these resolutions be presented to the 
Court, at its opening to-morrow, and that his Honor, the 
Circuit Judge, be requested to cause the same, together 
with a copy of his address, on adjourning the Court, to the 
Bar, to be entered in the minutes of the Court. 




MEETING OF THE BAR. 

A large and highly influential meeting of the members 
of the New York Bar, embracing men of all political feel- 
ings, assembled in the United States Circuit Court room, 
to express their regret at the loss the country and their 
profession have sustained by the death of Daniel Web- 
ster. 

The Hon. Samuel Jones, ex-Chief Justice of the Su- 
preme Court, was called on to preside. 

Messrs. B. W. Bonney and B. C. Benedict were re- 
quested to act as Secretaries. 

Mr. Staples said : 

I believe, '[Mr.] Chairman, that ; some resolutions have 
been prepared by a Committee of the Bar, which I wish 
may be read at this time. I believe they are in the hands 
of Mr. William Ev.vrts. 

97 7 









m 



W 



Mr. Wm. Bvarts then read the following resolutions: 

Resolved, That the Bar of New York have heard with 
profoundest grief of the death of Daniel Webster, and 
respectfully offer their condolence to the family of the de- 
ceased upon this sad event. 

Resolved, That in the large capacities and varied powers 
of his intellect — in the culture and discipline of these 
powers in the highest sphere of human action and influ- 
ence—in the fortune of great opportunities and the success 
of great achievements — Daniel Webster stands first 
among the men of his day and generation, and his name 
and his fame will be a treasured possession to his country 
forever. 

Resolved, That while the great abilities, thorough and 
extensive learning, powerful and splendid eloquence of 
Mr. Webster, call forth our highest admiration, the vast 
public labors and eminent public services to which, for 
half a century, he has devoted those noble gifts and large 
acquirements, from a love of country so pure and enthusi- 
astic, have imposed a great debt of gratitude upon his 
countrymen, which they and their posterity, to the latest 
generation, can never, by the fullest tribute of affection, 
respect and honor to his memory, too deeply acknowledge. 

Resolved, That we feel a just pride in the knowledge 
that the foundations of Mr. Webster's greatness were laid 
in the learning and discipline of the profession of the law; 
that the first triumphs of his fame were gained in its arena, 
and that, throughout a long life, he ever honored it and 
its votaries ; and that we esteem his uniform support of 
the Constitution and the laws of the land, his habitual 
reverence to the judicial tribunals, and his perpetual 
efforts to sustain, extend, illuminate and defend the ad- 

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ministration of justice among men, in the several spheres 
of municipal, constitutional and international law, one of 
the chief glories of his character, and one of the most last- 
ing elements of his renown. 

Resolved, That, to the glory of his life the manner of 
his death was a fit and^majestic close, and leaves no 
ground of lamentation for his sake who has departed, but 
for his country only, and the cause of constitutional liberty, 
to which he is lost forever. 

Resolved, That, in testimony of respect for his memory, 
such of our number as maybe so deputed by the Chairman 
of this meeting, do attend his funeral, as representatives 
of our body, and that we all wear the usual bndge of 
mourning. 

Mr. Hiram Ketchum said : 

The offices of this day belong less to grief and sorrow 
than congratulation and joy. It is true, that our illustri- 
ous countryman, Daniel Webster, is no longer numbered 
among the living ; but it is a subject of congratulation 
that he lived beyond the ordinary period allotted to hu- 
man life, and that he was permitted to die, as he had lived 
for thirty years, in the service of his country ; and at his 
own home, in his own bed, surrounded by his domestic 
family and friends. The great luminary of the Bar, the 
Senate, and the Council Chamber is set forever, but it is a 
subject of rejoicing that it is set in almost supernatural 
splendor, obscured by no cloud ; not a ray darkened. 

I have often heard Mr. Webster express a great dread, 
I may say horrible dread, of a failure of intellect. He did 
not live long enough to experience such failure. I rejoice 
that he lived long enough to collect and supervise, and 
publish to the world his own works. Many of our distin- 

99 



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-M*0 





-*>~- . 






:: 



' a 



guished countrymen live only in tradition ; but Daniel 
Webster lias made up the record for himself ; a record 
which discloses, clear «is light, his political, moral and re- 
ligions principles— a record containing " no word which 
dying, he might wish to blot," or any friend of his desire 
to efface. More than any living man, he has instructed 
the whole generation of American citizens in their politi- 
cal duties, and taught the young men of the country how 
to think clearly, reason fairly, and clothe thought in the 
most simple and beautiful English. He has reared his own 
monument. " There it stands, and there it will stand for- 
ever!' 7 The rock which was pressed by the feet of the 
Pilgrims, first landing on the shores of this Western Con- 
tinent, is destined long to be remembered ; but not longer 
than the oration commemorating that event, delivered two 
hundred years after it occurred, by Daniel Webster. 

The monument which indicates the spot where the first 
great battle of the American Revolution was fought, will 
stand as loug as monumental granite can stand ; but long 
after it is obliterated and scattered, the oration delivered 
on laying its corner-stone, and the other oration pro 
nounced nineteen years after, on its completion, will live 
to tell that such a monument was. The names of John 
Adams and Thomas Jefferson will be known to a distant 
futurity ; but I believe that among the last records which 
will tell of their names will be the eulogy, of which they 
were the theme, pronounced by Daniel Webster. We all 
hope, and some of us believe, that the Constitution and 
Union of our country will be perpetual ; but we know that 
the speeches and orations in defence and commendation of 
that Constitution and Union, delivered by Daniel Web- 
ster, will live as long as the English language is spoken 

100 




ill 



among men. I might refer to the capitol of the country, 
to every important institution, and every great name in 
our land, among the living and the dead, for there is not 
one of them that has not been embalmed in his eloquence. 

In the few remaining remarks which I have to make, 
allow me, sir, to speak of some of the personal char- 
acteristics of Mr. Webster as they have fallen under 
my own observation. I have long been acquainted with 
him. From all I know, have seen and heard, I am here 
to-day to bear testimony that Daniel Webster, as a pub- 
lic man, possessed the highest integrity. He always seemed 
to me to act under the present conviction, that whatever 
he did would be known, not only to his contemporaries, 
but to posterity. He was" clear in office." He regarded 
political power as power in trust ; and though always will- 
ing and desirous to oblige his friends, yet he would never, 
directly or indirectly, violate that trust. I have known 
him in private and domestic life. During the last twenty- 
five years I have received many letters from him ; some 
of which I yet retain, and some have been destroyed at his 
request. I have had the pleasure of meeting him often in 
private circles, and at the festive board, where some of 
our sessions were not short ; but neither in his letters nor 
his conversation, have I ever known him to express an im- 
pure thought, an immoral sentiment, or use profane lan- 
guage. Neither in writing nor in conversation have I ever 
known him to assail any man. No man, in my hearing, 
was ever slandered or spoken ill of by Daniel Webster. 
Never in my life have I known a man whose conversation 
was uniformly so unexceptionable in tone and edifying in 
character. No man ever had more tenderness of feeling 

than Daniel Webster. He had his enemies, as malignant 

101 





(I 



as any man ; but there was not one of them who, if he 
came to him in distress, would not obtain all the relief in 
his power to bestow. To say that he had 'no weakness 
and failings would be to say that he was not human. 
Those failings have been published to the world, and his 
friends would have no reason to complain of that if they 
had not been exaggerated. It is due to truth and sound 
morality to say, in this place, that no public services, no 
eminent talent, can or should sanctify errors. It was one 
of Mr. Webster's characteristics that he abhorred all af- 
fectation. That affectation, often seen in young men, of 
speaking in public upon the impulse of the moment, with- 
out previous thought and preparation, of all others he most 
despised. He never spoke without previous thought and 
laborious preparation. As was truly said by my venerable 
friend, who just sat down (Mr. Staples,) he was industri- 
ous to the end. When, on leaving college, he assumed 
the place of teacher in an academy, in an interior town of 
New England, the most intelligent predicted his future em- 
inence. After his first speech in court, in his native state, 
a learned judge remarked. " I have just heard a speech 
from a young man who will hereafter become the first man 
in the country." The predictions that were made of Dan- 
iel Webster's career were not merely that he would be a 
great man, but the^Vs^ man. 

I have often thought that if other men could have been 
as diligent and assiduous as Mr. Webster, they might have 
equaled him in achievement. When he addressed the 
Court, the Bar, the Senate, or the people, he ever thought 
he had no right to speak without previous preparation 
He came before the body to which he was to speak, with 
his thoughts arrayed in their best dress. 

102 



He thought this 




was due to men who would stand and hear him, and the 
result was that every thing he said was always worthy 
of being read ; and the works of no public man in our 
country have ever been so much read. 

It may be conceded (whether it was a virtue or a weak- 
ness,) that Daniel Webster was ambitious. He was. He 
desired to attain high position, and to surpass every man 
who had occupied the same before him. He spared no la- 
bor or assiduity to accomplish this end. Whether he has 
succeeded or not, posterity must say. I will add, that it 
is true that he desired the highest political position in the 
country ; that he thought he had fairly earned a claim to 
that position. And I solemnly believe that because that 
claim was denied his days were shortened. I came here, 
sir, to speak of facts as they are ; neither to censure or to 
applaud any man, or set of men ; whether what has been 
done has been well done, or what has been omitted has 
been well omitted, the public must decide. May I be per- 
mitted to add that, though I am no man's worshipper, I have 
deeply sympathized in thought, in word, and in act, with 
that desire of Mr. Webster. I have continued this sym- 
pathy with that desire to the last moment of his life. If 
there be honor in this, let it attach to me and mine ; if dis- 
grace, let it be visited upon me and my children. 

Mr. Ketchusi then offered the following: 

Resolved, That every member of the Bar, and every stu- 
dent at law, be respectfully requested to join in such cere- 
mony as may be ordered by the corporate authorities of 
this city, to testify their respect to the memory of the late 
Mr. Webster. 

The Chairman put the question, and the resolutions were 
carried unanimously. The meeting then dispersed. 

103 



: f 







f 






EULOGIES FROM THE PULPIT 



DISCOURSE in THE REV. HENRY W. BELLOWS, 



IN THE 



CHURCH OF DIVINU LMJTV. 



At rest with kings and counsellors of the earth. — Job hi., lo, 14. 

There has been but one thought on the hearts and the 
tongues of men since we last met in this house of prayer — 
the passing away of that majestic spirit that lately inhab- 
ited the stately form of America's greatest boast and her 
most honored statesman. No funeral pageant, however 
splendid, could equal in dignity the burial service which 
the whole country has been performing, from the moment 
it learned its mighty bereavement. One long procession 
of mourners, gathered from the furthest south and the re- 
motest west, has wended in spirit to the hearse of Webster. 
A nation has stood about his bier. The Press has been a 
universal pall. Contending parties have joined hands to 
bear his remains to the tomb. Courts, Colleges and Cham- 
ber of Commerce mourn. States, cities and embassies have 
forgotten other duties to honor his ashes. Whatever pub- 
lic ceremonies may hereafter commemorate this solemn 
event, nothing can equal, in significance or grandeur, the 
spontaneous, unpremeditated gush of grief which, springing 
from millions of hearts, scattered over millions of acres, 
has poured a mighty river of sorrow through the life of 
the nation. 

104 






My brethren, the man whose decease, at the appointed 
term of natural life, can thns break up the deeps of national 
sensibility-whose grave swallows the animosities of party 
L-whose defenceless corpse silences the rudeness of assail- 
ino- presses, and awes even the levity of youth to reverent 
attention-has something more to make him wept and 
honored than a successful career, a brilliant reputation, 
high office in the State, great talents, or good fortune. 
There must be intrinsic qualities of the rarest and most 
precious order lost in his decease, to cause and to justiiy 
such a sense of bereavement! Nothing short of true 
o T eatness, such as asks neither success nor voluntary re- 
cognition to attest its reality, could produce this universal 
and unqualified respect. A great man-such as the Al- 
mighty rarely creates— such an one as, perhaps, our age 
has not known in all the world; such as our country, after 
his kind, never knew before, nor may hope to know again 
-has fallen among us. We had measured his height with 
admiration and gratitude these many years, but it was 
only when he fell that we fully knew how high he had 
towered, and by what an interval he left others below 

him. 

It is not chiefly for what he has done of describaole ser- 
vice to his country— for the treaties he framed, the meas- 
ures he carried, the policies he established, or the principles 
he upheld— that the nation is now pouring its sincerest 
homage upon his grave ! It is for what he was, and what 
he would have been anywhere, in any party, connected with 
any policy, or living in any country; for his splendid 
powers, his weighty nature, his commanding character, his 
grand and over-awing person. Daniel Webster !— that 
is a title which no circumstantial or descriptive epithets 
can dignify or enhance. He was more and greater in him- 

103 



L- 





self as God made him ; he had more claims on the admi- 
ration and respect of the world as a man — as a specimen of 
humanity — than as a statesman, an orator, or a patriot. 
The honor, and hope, and inspiration with which such a 
noble intellect, and such a glorious presence, endow our 
common nature, is a greater gift than any special services 
can bestow. It is to God, as the sovereign reason; it is to 
God, as the archetype of Humanity, that we bow in gratitude 
and reverence, when he condescends to come nearer to us, 
in those rare and priceless images of Himself which shine 
in the capacious, commanding and imposing souls of the 
truly great ! Daniel Webster, despite his faults, adorned 
our nature. Every man is prouder and more self-respect- 
ful because he lived; and of whom such praise can be sin- 
cerely affirmed, there remains little more to be said that 
does not fall below the subject. 

All, my brethren, that national grief and professional 
sorrow — all that the Forum, the Bar, the Press, could speak 
of eulogy, has been already tenderly and grandly said; for 
the mingled gratitude and regret caused by a loss so great 
excites an eloquence kindred to that it deplores, and in the 
voice of his eulogists, we seem almost again to hear his own! 
And now Religion must take up the theme, and draw her 
lessons from an event — too large and expansive not to in- 
vade and occupy the pulpit, as well as the court and the 
senate chamber. 

Our first lessons, as Christian citizens, in view of this 
national bereavement, is one of gratitude to God, whose 
benefits never disclose their true proportions till they 
spread themselves for their flight, that, as a young nation, 
he has blessed us with leaders and educators, so wise, and 
great, and good — displaying the grandeur of his designs 

106 




i toward our country, by the magnitude and the endowments 
of our national shapers and champions ! 

My brethren, the providential destiny of this land was 
prepared in the minds and hearts of that race of giant 
statesmen and patriots whom the passing year has finally 
taken from the stage of life, leaving Websteb, the most 
illustrious among the rest, to close a procession which 
Washington, the undeniable superior of all, began. What 
may not be hoped of a land which, in three years, could 
lose such a triumvirate of patriots and statesmen as Cal- 
houn, and Clay, and Webster !— which buried in one day 
Jefferson and Adams ! and which retains in its institu- 
tions and annals, its laws and national sentiments, the 
memories and services, the wisdom and the devotion, the 
very lives and souls of Hamilton and Jay, of Madison and 
Marshall ! Nothing but a grand crisis in the fortunes of 
humanity; the imagination of Liberty in a hemisphere; the 
I opening of a new and better volume in the history of the 
world, could" account for the upspringing, within our bor- 
ders, of a band of men, whose genius, patriotism and elo- 
quence have turned a wilderness into a garden; a feeble 
colony, not older than some living men, into one of the 
great powers of the world; and a people without a 
name, into the hope and inspiration of nations all over the 
globe! In the magnificence of their natural gifts, in the 
prophetic vision of their hearts, in the generous compass 
of their ample souls, in the shaping faculty of their legis- 
lative abilities, were hid the seeds of our greatness; and 
our gratitude toward them is only another form of glory 
to God, for the blessings he has heaped upon our country. 
Through their inspiration and guidance, we are enjoying, 
in our°early youth, benefits which ordinarily reward only 
the venerable maturity of nations ; and that, without the 



107 








7* 






Sa*&*- 




fears of early decay, or the signs of perilous prematurity, 
which usually accompany a forced ripeness. Our prosper- 
ity seems as solid as it is large; our freedom as perfect as 
it is wide; our happiness as complete as it is sudden. The 
dying eyes of the last of our national fathers swept a land 
which, almost in his own lifetime, had spread from thirteen 
colonies of two and a half millions of people, sparsely scat- 
tered along the borders of the Atlantic, to thirty-one States 
of nearly thirty millions, covering the great basin of the 
then unexplored Mississippi, and occupying the shores of 
the Pacific — a land where the log-hut in which his brothers 
were born, bore no greater contrast to the capitol in which 
his own honors were won, and his labors wrought — than 
the national poverty, obscurity and difficulties on which 
his eyes opened, bear to the universal wealth, distinction 
and prosperity on which they have just closed. The Con- 
stitution itself, so venerable for its character and the labors 
of the patriots who framed and put it in operation, is not 
so old as that just departed progenitor of our glories, who 
spent the best part of his life in its elucidation and defence. 
Was ever an individual life more identical with a nation's ! 
Did it ever fall to any other band of statesmen, as to our 
recently departed ones, to see the foundations and the top- 
stone of their country's prosperity both laid in their own 
lifetime, and to know that their genius was sculptured 
alike on corner-stone and cornice ! It was peculiarly true 
of the last spared, the latest wept, (Webster,) that he lent 
and borrowed his country's greatness, made and shared its 
progress, shaped and was shaped by its destiny, while he 
inspired the nation with a profound sense of its privileges 
and responsibilities, and impressed upon it, with unequaled 
eloquence and force, the nature and dignity of its national 
principles. He, himself, seemed inspired by the genius of 

103 



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jftt - 



^m^K 



our future; gathered comprehensiveness from the breadth 
of our longitude and latitude; rose to a height adequate 
to command America's coming ages, and embodied in his 
speech, and port, and policy, the grandeur and the poetry 
of an unprecedented empire to come. In this respect, he 
was distinguished from all our statesmen. Justice, liberty, 
national prosperity, peculiar and important lines of policy 
may have animated others as much, or more. The right 
of free speech may owe more to Adams; democratic free- 
dom be more indebted to Jefferson; financial and federal 
principles to Hamilton; a correct policy in trade, or even 
in foreign relations, to Clay; and all and every interest m 
turn, more to Washington than all; but above all men, 
above all statesmen, Webster was inspired with the idea 
of America ! Goo gave him the imagination and the sen- 
sibility of a poet, that his responsive soul might anticipate 
the quickening, greatening pulse of his country's swelling 
heart, and conceive the grandeur of its throbs, should none 
of its growing arteries be severed, none of its filling veins 
be opened ! How sincerely, how passionately, how char- 
acteristically was he devoted to the preservation ol the 
Union! How largely it moved, how extensively it de- 
scribes the substance of his highest eloquence! Nothing 
but the majestic image of his whole, undivided country 
could satisfy the poetic and patriotic necessities of his ca- 
pacious imagination. One by one he would have surren- 
dered his limbs to amputation, to save the secession of any 
member from the confederacy; and it would not have given 
so much agony to his death-bed to know that he must be 
buried like a felon, at the crossing of the roads, with a stake 
through his body-or like a traitor, quartered and hung 
over the gates of four cities-as to have feared the disrup- 
tion of the land he girt about with his last embrace, or the 

109 






,,,v 



i£l£M 




^^V-N^ 







loss of the Union, whose preservation carried in his vision 
the mightest future ever vouchsafed to a nation ! Far bet- 
ter had it been to burn his body, and scatter his ashes to 
the winds, than bury him in a grave ever destined to be 
disturbed by that plough-share of ruin . 

I suppose, my brethren, that his political successes and 
his political mistakes both sprung from this same root — 
unqualified devotion to the Union. Grand and glorious as 
this consecration is, when considered with reference to 
the future— yet, perhaps, it can hardly be said to be a prin- 
ciple fitted to quicken the moral sense, or to guide the 
heart to a righteous policy in regard to questions of pure 
duty in national concerns. I certainly feel that the com- 
manding genius of this great patriot and statesman did, 
in certain cases, lead the nation to place the integrity of the 
Union above the integrity of the national conscience, and 
that, in so far, he helped to sacrifice the greater to the less. 
But now, that passionate disappointment is cooled with 
tears and the damp of death, I will not be so presumptuous 
as to say that, in his own sober and sincere judgment, the 
preservation of the Union did not include every other duty, 
and was not urged by him in a spirit of pure patriotism. 
If he erred — and greatly he seems to me to have erred — 
it was, I will believe, only because the whole tenor of his 
life, the whole force of his visions, the whole splendor of 
his faculties, had concentrated themselves upon one great 
object, until others, of even larger magnitude, had no 
room within the field of his fascinated, intense and single 
eye. Oh ! that God had granted him and us the blessing of 
an advocacy from that victorious toDgue of an uncompromis- 
ing devotion to the principles of freedom and humanity in 
that awful crisis when the unprofaned lips of Webster were 
left to retract the lessons and vows of his previous life! Why 



no 




1 v 



did not those mighty arms— strong enough for both offices- 
to uphold the Union and dethrone the slave power— why 
did i hey not then illustrate the meaning and oalh contained 
in the words with which he closed the greatest forensic 
effort of modern limes— " Liberty and Union, one and in- 
separable, now and forever." Perhaps, to spare us the 
sin of idolatry, God has fixed this mark of imperfection 
upon him whom we were about to worship ! 

But let us now turn from what he did to what he was; 
from his services and his political and national principles, 
to his nature and his character. If, in the first place, we 
have cause, in view of the patriot's death, to bless God, as 
citizens, for the transcendent gift of his services to our 
youthful nation, in the second place, as we lay all that is 
mortal of Daniel Webster in the dust, we have cause to 
bless God, as men, for the inspiring example of his nature 
and genius, for what he was, and the lustre he shed on our 
common humanity. And here, in a peculiar sense, it seems 
to me, our admiration of the man partakes of piety; for 
his gifts were rather the direct endowments of his Maker, 
than the fruits of culture or experience, largely as he was 
stored with these. His greatness inherited in his nature 
even more than in his character. God made him a great 
man. He was at once superior to any obstacle he encoun- 
tered, to any place or office to which he was called, to any 
adversary who came out against him. Almost without ef- 
fort, by the specific gravity of his being, he overcame men 
and circumstances, and settled into his central and com- 
manding place. As a lawyer, an orator, a senator, a cabi- 
net officer, a companion, his personality seemed to give 
such a preponderance to his words, that their most ordinary 
utterance outweighed the eloquence, learning and wit of 
other men. He, himself, was the great adjective which 

in 




m 



backed the naked substantives to which he so often com- 
mitted his statements. " I thank you," from him, meant 
more than the most elaborate compliments from another. 
Such a sense did his majestic presence convey of the com- 
prehensive intelligence, the matured wisdom, the subtle 
insight, the exact appreciation of the mightiest and the 
most delicate relations of every subject to which he direct- 
ed his mind, that the world waited not for his arguments, 
but only for his statement. It was enough to know what 
he thought; that was reason, eloquence and conviction in 
itself. 

And in still another sense was Mr. Webster's mind a 
direct gift of God, rather than the formation of secondary 
influences. He dwelt characteristically near the great 
transparent fountains of principles, and never moved far 
from them. First truths were his habitual food. Insight, 
far more than learning, characterised his legal efforts. 
What he himself forcibly said of Dexter may more truly 
be said of himself: "he went behind precedents to prin- 
ciples,"' and sought the springs from which the law has 
flowed. This it is which makes his pleas, even in the most 
technical cases, as interesting and as intelligible as a tale. 
The preponderousness of his intellect seldom suffered him 
to leave the great high roads of thought; and when passion 
drove his weighty being into unexplored regions, he left a 
permanent and open road behind him, with all the marks 
of newness effaced by the consolidating pressure of his 
huge understanding. A man of such native wisdom needs 
not intellectual originality. What lower understandings 
approach by ingenuity, or supply the want of by invention, 
or reason toward by elaborate argument, lighting them- 
selves on their dark search by brilliant fancy and dazzling 

rhetoric, minds of the order of Webster, knowing by in- 

112 






tuition, and holding in the form of serene wisdom, ha\ 
only to state in lucid simplicity, without effort or decora- 
tion, without even the show of newness or the pretence of 
variety, to produce all the effects of the highest eloquence, 
and to reach, at one blow, and with equal force, the sym- 
pathies, and the admiration, and the convictions of wise 
and simple, learned and ignorant. Mr. Webster seemed 
always to be telling people what they knew before, but 
what, from him, was more intensely interesting in its fa- 
miliarity than any novelty or surprise from another. He 
produced his grandest effects by the simplest machinery; 
and the most eloquent, original, or profound sentences he 
ever uttered could not puzzle an intelligent child. 

But it was not native wisdom alone that made him what 
he was. His sagacity would have made him great, but not 
an orator or a statesman. To this was wanting what he 
had in splendor — a sublime imagination, which lacked only 
a versatility incompatible with his intellectual weight, to 
have made him a peer of the great poets, whose jeweled 
verses so often found the fittest setting in his solid prose. 
Milton and Shakspeare, and the bards of the Bible, never 
illuminated an orb more kindred with their own, than 
when shedding some borrowed beams upon his weighty and 
majestic sentences. Hoav grand, how useful, was this im- 
agination! It showed itself in the cast of his plainest 
arguments, in the appreciation of every occasion, in the 
choice of his opportunities, the line of his policy, the na- 
ture of his views and opinions; nay, in the whole bearing, 
costume and look of the man, as much as in the poetic fires 
or flashes of light with which he occasionally kindled his 
subject and his hearers. It was a poet who conceived 
and pronounced the orations at Plymouth Rock and at 

113 8 







Bunker Hill; tlie answers to Hayne and Calhoun, and 
the speech on the Greek resolutions. It was the poet, as 
much as the statesman and patriot, who made the Consti- 
tution almost a personal presence to his countrymen, and 
lifted the Union from a dead abstraction into a living 
creature — the subject of warm affections, and intense hopes 
and fears. And how sublime and affecting, because of 
almost scriptural simplicity and familiarity, were the 
images with which this poetic intellect illustrated his 
themes ! Rarely did he bring any thing smaller or less 
known than the sun, the stars, the ocean, the river, the 
oak, or the grass, to adorn or elucidate his wisdom and 
eloquence. Yet, such was the truth of his analogies, such 
the appositeness of his images, that the sun and the ocean 
were both new when they gleamed in his sentences, and the 
moral or political truths with which he blended their 
beams and waves, seemed to have been waiting from crea- 
tion for the union which he consummated. This high im- 
agination appeared in his daily character and conduct, as 
much as in his policy or his rhetoric. It gave dignity and 
simplicity to his manners; it presided over his chosen es- 
tates; it decided his dress; it lent a charm to his associates, 
and clothed, with their peculiar interest, the commonest 
persons and places about him. "Things were not what 
they seemed " to his poetic eye. He had the vision and 
the faculty divine;" and Wordsworth himself did not 
more than Webster find in 

" the meanest flower that blows, 



Thoughts that do often lie too deep for tears." 

But it was not an intellect of the greatest natural sagac- 
ity and weight, nor an imagination of the most shaping 
and plastic power, alone or united, that lifted our deceased 



SSBB 



114 




?i 



monarch to the throne of a nation's homage: another na- 
tive quality was required, and that he possessed in the 
fullest degree—a great and tender heart. No man yet 
ever formed the hearts of others without the aid of his 
own, or out of proportion to his owu. Like every mind 
of the highest class, Daniel Webster was a man of senti- 
ment, of fluent affections, of genuine pathos, of tender sen- 
sibility. In his genuine character, he fully obeyed the 
injunction, ''As thou art strong be merciful."' He was as 
gentle as gigantic, with the docility as well as the force of 
the elephant. Who ever thought of comparing him to any 
beast of prey ? A knightly courtesy kept his lance low- 
ered, even in the presence of the most irritating chal- 
lengers, until the trumpet sounded the call of national 
honor; and then, his charge, if irresistible, carried no 
contempt, no malice, and no mortification in its victory- 
He provoked and fought no duels ; occasioned and en- 
gaged in no frays ; offered or challenged no insult in de- 
bates. A model of dignity and stately courtesy, he ex- 
hibited the kindness of his heart even beneath the phlegm 
and oppressive weight of his presence — as soft and melting 
as the snow, even when as cold and as massive. It was 
this warm and tender heart which made his eloquence so 
touching. No man understood the soft spots in the bosoms 
of a jury, or a popular assembly better than he. He allot- 
ted to the affections their own large place among the in- 
terests of human life ; and no orator ever dwelt more, or 
more movingly, upon the sacredness and charm of the do- 
mestic relations, or drew his rhetoric from a more genuine 
source. His heart too was as true in its instincts as it was 
powerful in its action. He could not argue the wrong side 
of a question. He was himself onlv. when ensra2;ed in the 

115 











utterance of truth, humanity and righteousness, and his 
eloquence rose in strict proportion to the moral greatness, 
or moral truth of his theme. Compromises and expedients, 
if he resorted to them, hampered his genius and tied his 
tongue. It was the noble Hulsemann letter which last 
carried all of that generous heart in its majestic tide — as 
if his nature found a grateful vent in our foreign relations, 
more recently denied him by our domestic affairs. Above 
all, his heart was reverential in its aspirations as it was 
true in its instincts. God was the next and only thing 
above that towering soul, and as Webster was greater 
and more tender than others, so was he more adequate in 
his conceptions and more sensitive in his recognition of 
the divine character and presence. Like all high and rich 
natures, Religion was a necessity and an instinct of his 
being. No levity, indifference or formality, stained his 
outward piety ; neither his philosophy, his observation, 
nor his ambition, disposed him to forget or banish Chris- 
tianity from his tongue or his fireside. He was unfeigned- 
ly devout, and gave his tears and his sympathies to every 
moving expression of piety from the lips of others. I have 
heard that he valued himself upon his speech in the case 
of Mr. Girard's will ; so much of which is devoted to the 
magnifying of the Scriptures, and the exaltation of religion, 
more than upon any of his more splendid addresses. He 
never failed to welcome religious conversation, nor wearied 
of speaking the praises of the Old Testament literature, or 
the New Testament precepts. In his moral and poetic 
appreciation of the grandeur, beauty and value of the re- 
ligious sentiment, and that which is its principal support, 
the Gospel of Christ, what a lesson does he offer to that 
meagre and frozen utilitarianism so common in our coun- 

116 





try, especially among the busier and more influential classes 
of society, which values Christian institutions mainly as a 
regulation of police — an auxiliary to public order — at best, 
an appendix to schools — which feel not their relation to 
the profoundest and most dignified wants of the soul, nor 
the glory and beauty they shed over the personal charac- 
ter, when wholly penetrated with their sanctity and senti- 
ment. From the same root with his veneration, sprung 
his singular elegance and classic tastes. The most prac- 
tical of men, he was the daintiest of critics on himself, the 
nicest practicer of decorum and dignity, and exhibited a 
taste, too rarely copied or even sought, in his manners, 
dress, and style. No slovenliness, self-depreciation, hurry, 
affectation of contempt for trifles or superiority to common 
feelings, deformed his gracious and elegant character. He 
stooped to no ad captandum ways, hurried to no undignified 
explanations, sought popularity by no unworthy acts or 
hypocritical condescensions. He knew his place, and he 
claimed and filled it. Death itself could not weaken his 
noble self-possession, nor diminish his lofty dignity. He 
evidently sympathized, at his last hour, with that other 
self — the nation — in his own bereavement, and seemed 
bending with his country over his own ashes, when he 
said, " On the 24th of October all that is mortal of Daniel 
Webster shall be no more !" 

In claiming, in this sacred place, a large, true, and devout 
heart for Daniel Webster, it would ill become me to con- 
ceal the moral errors of that great and tempted nature. 
He had, if public rumor be not the blackest of liars, his 
vices and his weaknesses ; he was reputed self-indulgent 
in his appetites, and careless in his pecuniary obligations. 
All the apology to be afforded by the exigencies of his 

117 








"riiTi- - i-«iiiMr* 




tremendous physical frame, and the herculean labors of the 
brain ; by his absorption in public duties to the inevitable 
neglect of his own affairs, both gratitude and charity will 
be quick to allow. And there is still more to be said. 
His vices were infirmities, not malignant dispositions or 
brazen violations of right and duty. They did not sensi- 
bly corrupt his public principles, nor creep into his works, 
nor invite companions and successors. Virtue and piety 
have all the support of his great judgment and his dignified 
remains. He never paraded, never defended, never ac- 
knowledged as his own, any laxity of morals. He wished 
to be, and to pass for a man of strict integrity and devout- 
ness. Moreover, his faults were probably exaggerated, 
and those who suffered most by them, were usually the 
last to complain. And yet the unhappy influence which 
these errors and mistakes ; these vices or infirmities had 
upon his influence and reputation, great as both were, ex- 
hibits, in the most melancholy and afflictive way, the ma- 
lignity of vice ; the dreadful retribution that follows mi- 
governed appetites or scrupulous dealings ! The last thing 
which that wise and noble man would bequeath to his coun- 
try, would be the admiration or defence of his errors. But 
let me be silent, for in the language of the poet and the 
poem, which consoled his last struggle, do we not seem to 
hear his dying deprecation and request in the closing verse 
of the elegy he called for : 

" Nor further seek his merits to disclose, 

Nor draw his frailties from their dread abode, 
(There they alike in trembling hope repose.) 
The bosom of his Father and his God." 

My brethren, I may weary your patience before I have 
gratified half my longing to speak on this interesting 

118 





theme. If I must leave without finishing my sketch, it is 
a relief to know that the most skillful pens and voices in 
the country, will not fail to do deliberate justice to the 
subject of our meditations. 

Meanwhile it is enough for one occasion to acknowledge 
and to feel our loss, without exactly measuring its extent. 
The last of our great men has left us ! Our country has 
buried with him the whole generation of its founders ! 
The nation is committed to its own hands. Its parents 
and sponsors are dead ! Its guardians have closed their 
trust ! Our immense fortune has fallen to our uncontrolled 
possession ! The deference, the dependence, the obedience, 
which age and dignity, and long services, and vast expe- 
rience exacted, the tomb now relinquishes. No majestic 
forms stand longer upon our shores, intercepting the rev- 
erence and confidence of foreign nations, and representing 
and assuming the stability, the wisdom and the temperance 
of our country and our government. In their stead the 
world now sees only the American people — an army with- 
out officers, commissioned by God ; a nation stript of the 
seers and guides that hitherto attended and directed its 
march. The Malachi of our First Dispensation has con- 
cluded his prophecy, and the Old Testament of our history 
is closed ! It is a solemn and a critical period in our af- 
fairs ; and the universal and unusual sensibility which 
marks our people show that, temporarily at least, the na- 
tion tremblingly feels the responsibility of the indepen- 
dence, the solemnity of the destitution, now for the first 
time experienced. Oh, fellow-citizens ! tremendous are 
the issues hanging over this country — feeble, alas ! I fear, 
the customary sense of the difficulties attending the forma- 
tion and defence of a great national character ! Amid the 

119 





h %%s^s^iju! 



passionate haste of our prosperity, the headlong reckless- 
ness of our popular feeling', what a fearful thing it is to 
remember that the powerful brake, which the wisdom, 
moderation and weight of that great statesman afforded, 
is suddenly wrenched from the train ! Amid partisan con- 
tentions and the subserviencies of personal ambition, the 
elevation of available candidates to high offices, the grow- 
ing predominancy of military merits, or party serviceable- 
ness — w ith an increasing recklessness in our municipal 
functionaries — nowhere so shameful as in our metropolis — 
a growing disregard for decorum and dignity in the great 
chambers of the nation ; in a day when no high officer of 
state is secure against charges of peculation and bribery : 
what can measure the loss of a tried and trusted national 
statesman, above all parties as above all private passions 
in his devotion to national order, the honor of the country, 
and the dignity and purity of public office ! My country- 
men, we must arouse ourselves from this stupor of private 
prosperity ; this delirium of social ambition ; this blind 
confidence in the blessedness of our national destiny ; this 
faith in a Providence we do nothing to propitiate, and a 
future we fail to prepare. One after another, the pilots 
have dropped from the helm. Not accident, nor good for- 
tune, nor smooth seas, but their skill and faithfulness, 
brought our ship of state to this prosperous latitude ! But 
the last and greatest of the helmsmen is beneath the waves 
he rode so well, and we are heaving at the mercy of the 
winds, protected only by our recollection and use of the 
lessons and ways he, and such as he, have left us. Shall 
we not henceforth become more watchful and zealous in 
the duties and the example we owe our country ? Shall 
we not more deeply feel our responsibility to elect good 

120 





«3 



sal ' . 



i 











men to office, now that no permanent check upon their 
conduct is left at the centre of power ? Will not this very 
election, on the eve of which the death of Webster has 
occurred, make us less selfish and sinful in the discharge 
of our sacred duty as citizens, to vote, and to vote con- 
scientiously? Only so, can we prove ourselves worthy to 
escape the perils and evils which must otherwise follow 
our bereavement as a nation, or fit to perform the new 
duties which fall upon a people, for the first time thrown 
wholly upon their own intelligence and virtue ! 

But our last words shall not be of ourselves, but of him ! 
" At rest with kings and counsellors of the earth," " the 
honorable man and the counsellor and the cunning artificer 
and the eloquent orator," lies in his recent grave ! That 
weighty brain, whose gravity balanced the destinies of our 
country, has rolled from the scale ! That majestic front, 
which we were proud to advance as the impersonation of 
our natural dignity, is level with the dust ; that tongue, 
so wise, so sweet, so calm, so convincing— which dropped 
the mingled music of ancient and modern eloquence, is 
cleaving forever to the roof of its mouth — " All that was 
mortal of Daniel Webster," is lost to New England— to 
America, Weep, ye young children, who never saw and 
shall never hear nor behold that rarest product of our 
hemisphere! Weep, oh my native state and natal city, 
that your crown, your glory, is departed! Come, clouds 
and vapors, and cover the granite hills of New Hampshire ! 
and rise, ye fogs and mists, from marsh and ocean, to shroud 
New England — for the day of her mourning has come ! 
Her father and her son in one hearse — her pride and her 
power are in his grave, and mountain and ocean cannot 
adorn her, as his presence gilded her soil and her name ! 
And yet rejoice my country ! that an imperishable fame 

121 





belongs to your records ! That God has blessed you with 
the gift of a transcendent ornament and benefactor ; — and 
that the grave which hides so much in the very body of our 
lost statesman and first citizen, cannot swallow, nor tar- 
nish, nor stop the growth of his glory and his influence ! 
Rejoice, Humanity, that you may enlarge the boundaries 
of your conceptions and hopes, as you measure his com- 
pleted genius and life. Rejoice, Freedom, that thy noblest 
intellect of the age was born and died within your terri- 
tories. Rejoice, Religion, that the weightiest judgment 
and the maturest wisdom, in him bowed most reverently 
at your altars. Rejoice, all ye personal lovers and friends 
of that care-worn pilot of the state, that, living in honor 
and dying in faith and patience at a good old age, the 
burdened shoulder and the aching brow are released from 
care and pain, and Daniel Webster, for the third of a 
century never freed from the weight of our interests, and 
sorrows, and destinies, is now in his home-made grave — 
" at rest with kings and counsellors of the earth." 

" Nor further seek his merits to disclose, 

Nor draw his frailties from their dread abode, 
(There they alike in trembling hope repose,) 
The bosom of his Father and his God." 



DISCOURSE BY THE REV. GEORGE B. CHEEVER, 

IN THE 

CHURCH OF THE PURITANS. 



1 



Not many wise men after the flesh — not many mighty,— not many noble are 
called.— Cor. i. 26. 

We stand amazed, as the Psalmist did, in whatever way 

it can be viewed, before that sublime and wonderful crea- 

122 




xavts^ 




tion of God, the human mind. The position occupied by 
man among other orders of intelligences, may be higher or 
lower ; but whatever it is, relatively, its positive import- 
ance and grandeur can neither be denied nor abdicated. 
" Thou hast made him a little lower than the angels, and 
hast crowned him with glory and honor/' A little lower 
than the angels ! Yet one of the greatest minds of our 
race, and that, too, a mind illuminated by divine wisdom, 
has deliberately affirmed that " as to man's mental part, he 
is, besides his moral debasement, at the very bottom of the 
gradation of probably innumerable millions of intellectual 
races ; certainly at the bottom, since a being inferior to 
man in intellect, could not be rational." — (John Foster.) 
But reason itself is almost at an infinite remove from all 
manifestations of life that do not amount to it ; and a 
being, of whom it can be said in any proper sense, that 
God made him in his own image, must be an infinitely 
wonderful creation, by whatever degrees of the same ra- 
tional intelligence other orders may rise above him, nearer 
toward the throne of God. And whatever becomes of 
human speculation, the assumption of our nature by the 
Son of God, the investiture of Deity itself with our hu- 
manity, is a transaction marking emphatically God's own 
appreciation of the value of the human soul, and in some 
sense it makes, of the whole human race, a new creation in 
importance and glory. 

But between individuals of our race, the differences of 
great and small, as in the comparison we note them, must 
be regarded as infinitely inconsiderable to God. Great 
minds are indeed God's gift ; inequalities in original fur- 
niture and power are evidently his pleasure. It is God's 
own arrangement for us, that some minds shall tower far 

123 








* , VV...N»" 



above others ; sliall be like great mountains, whose sum- 
mits receive the sun's rays earlier, and dismiss them later, 
than all ordinary elevations. And even if these inequali- 
ties were at the cost of some loss to the average of intel- 
lectual power, the loss would be gain ; even if what goes 
to make one man mightier than others were taken from 
the whole sum of human intelligence, to be thus indi- 
vidually bestowed. There is a marked analogy in the 
arrangement of God's physical world. If the whole pro- 
digious mass and elevation of the Alps were crumbled to 
a level, and distributed over all Europe, the whole gain, 
superficially, would be only a few feet of ordinary soil in 
thickness. But the exciting grandeur and glory of the 
mountains, the inspiring sublimity of their majestic forms 
rising into the heavens, and, as it were, piercing and com- 
muning with Eternity, would be gone ; and an element of 
power would be lost from even our mental and moral 
sphere of gift and endowment, for which no material gain 
could compensate. Just so it is with the inequalities of 
our intellectual systems. It is therefore a vast benefit to 
our race, when God raises up a mind among us of tran- 
scendent ability and investment, in capacity and form 
towering and eminent. And although by far the greater 
number of such intelligences have manifested, in moral 
disposition, an abasement and deformity, a deficiency and 
degradation, terribly the reverse, in comparison with the 
grandeur of their intellectual frame and attainments, yet 
God has still made use of them as gigantic hewers of wood 
and drawers of water in the advancement of his own plans ; 
and even when such minds, as has sometimes been the case, 
have openly defied his authority, cast contempt upon his 
Word, and almost denied his very existence, yet God has, 
all unknowing to themselves, set them at work to build 

124 





his own temple, to hew and shape the stone for its founda- 
tion, and to work at the pulleys, by which the materials 
of the superstructure shall be hoisted into place and per- 
manence. So he ever exercises his own great prerogative 
of bringing good out of evil, just as he pleases, and goes 
on, causing the wrath of man to praise him, and restrain- 
ing the remainder of wrath. 

But it is a sad and solemn thing to run over the cata- 
logue of Q-reat names, since the Christian era, in almost 
every nation visited by God's refreshing light, and see 
how great a proportion have been men totally astray from 
God, under the supreme dominion of selfishness and un- 
hallowed passion ; and to find that, although brought so 
much nearer to God, as to the mere intellectual ability to 
perceive their relations to him and to the universe, and 
to catch the rays of Divine truth before others, they have 
yet lived and died utterly without God, and without hope 
in the world. Multitudes have prostituted the highest 
gifts of genius, and even of the reasoning faculty, for the 
ruin of their race. And only here and there we see rising 
in the serenity, majesty and glory of Christian' faith and 
usefulness, with the light from heaven unclouded, bathing 
their regal fronts in splendor, such mighty forms as of 
Milton, Newton, Hale, Boyle, Johnson and Burke. 
Not many wise men after the flesh, not many mighty, not 
many noble, in such light. It is extremely rare that such 
a man is taken in his wisdom, in his might, in his nobility, 
and with his treasures of intellect, attainment, power and 
regulation, converted unto God. And there are a great 
many reasons that render this natural, inevitable ; al- 
though the transcendent majesty and glory of the Gospel 
are such, even when viewed only intellectually, that it is 

125 












irfi'r'- 




of all subjects the one of greatest power to captivate a 
mighty mind, and presents investigations so vast, splendid, 
and alluring, that all the wonders of science and art, all 
paths of human knowledge and curiosity, all heights and 
depths of research, except as connected with the search 
after God, pass into absolute insignificance and meanness 
in the comparison. Yet, the heart being darkened, the 
light of heaven excluded, and the habit formed of digging 
like the mole, instead of soaring like the eagle, even the 
greatest minds may lose all sight and true sense of the 
glory ; and the mind being filled with objects presented 
by the god of this world, a great barrier is built up, a dark 
solid wall, interposing and separating before the vision of 
those immortal realities, for which the greatest and the 
smallest minds alike were created, and which alone are 
worthy of the mind's possession. Thus it is that ambition, 
the love of human applause, the pride of intellect, and a 
host of vast voracious passions set on fire of sin, make 
such minds their prey, and hold them darkened and cap- 
tive, before the cross of Christ is admitted to their notice. 
And, as eagles beat out the eyes of their victims with the 
flapping of their fierce strong wings, so do these vultures 
of the mind destroy men's moral vision, till they put evil 
for good and good for evil ; and under the power of long- 
continued and chosen prejudice, ignorance, error, neglect, 
habitual sin, darkness, insensibility and procrastination, 
pass into eternity, even with a lie in their right hand, to 
present themselves and it before the throne of the Eternal. 
But though not many wise men after the flesh, not many 
mighty, not many noble, to whom the Gospel comes and 
finds them entrenched in their wisdom, their might, their 
nobleness, their riches, power, prosperity, and self-com- 
placency, are called, (a thing which God seems to have 

126 

i i i i ii " 1 










avoided on purpose,) yet many there be whom God has 
called, and made wise, mighty and noble by the treasures 
of his grace, and the glory of his truth in Christ Jesus ; 
grace and truth of such expanding and glorifying power, 
that even humble intellects, when brought beneath its full 
influence, and irradiated and disciplined by its light, are 
made majestic, being changed from glory to glory into the 
same image that is made the object of their gaze. And 
minds originally great, when educated beneath such celes- 
tial powers, and trained by them, are transfigured into 
something rather heavenly and divine than earthly, and 
invested with a glory as of angels. Hence the Church is 
never wanting, and never shall be, in giant sons of God, 
recognized by all the human race, as beings of vast intel- 
lect, and of wisdom and eloquence inspired by the Gospel, 
and transcendently grand and glorious. Hence such names 
as Usher, Leighton, Howe, Stillingfleet, Cudworth, 
Clarke, More, Barrow, Taylor, Hooker, Luther, Pas- 
cal, Wickliffe, Baxter, Butler, Bunyan, Newton, Cow- 
per, and many others, besides those before named, of beings 
new-created, and robed as on the Mount with Jesus, by be- 
ing carried up thither, or adopted as Moses, and retained 
with God, till every movement and feature is radiant with 
glory. 

In such minds, the manifold riches of God's wisdom and 
love in Christ Jesus already in this world are revealed 
in a mighty manifestation unto principalities and powers 
in heavenly places, and the glory of God in the face of 
Jesus Christ is illustrated ; and foremost in such, accord- 
ing to each one's measure of the grace of God, will be the 
unimagined revelation, when the Lord Jesus, revealed 
from heaven, shall come to be glorified in his saints, and 

127 



f 








M % %Sl3-%^.jL£ 



nr^^HSA 



admired in all who believe. But wisdom is. not desirable, 
nor might, nor majesty, nor nobleness of intellect, if not 
thus quickened by the Divine life, and irradiated by Divine 
light. " Let not the wise man glory in his wisdom, neither 
let the mighty man glory in his might ; let not the rich 
man glory in his riches ; but he that glorieth, let him glory 
in this, that he understandeth and knowetk the Loed God, 
exercising loving kindness, judgment, and righteousness." 
If this be not his knowledge and his boast, then the man 
of mighty intellect will covet, in the world of woe, the 
most contracted sphere of the smallest mind ever created, 
rather than his own vast reach of thought. For it is ob- 
vious that the men of greatest intellectual grasp and fore- 
sight — the men of most rapid and profound intuition — the 
men of greatest ability to weigh evidence — the minds of 
quickest and clearest discernment and discrimination to 
seize all the main points in a case, array them, and pour a 
blaze of light upon them, are the men bound to be foremost 
in the reception of the salvation of the Gospel, being fitted 
natively and intellectually for the highest conception of its 
glory, and the most enlarged comprehension of the con- 
sequences of rejecting it. And if such minds turn away 
from it, then, as their orbit of intellect and influence here 
was greater than that of other men, their sphere and ex- 
perience of perdition hereafter must be vaster and more 
profound. For as, the greater the endowments of an in- 
dividual mind, and the wider its capacity and reach of 
thought and reasoning, the greater are its responsibilities 
to God and man, so also, the greater its debasement, if it 
fails and falls beneath them, or disowns and denies its 
birth-right, and the greater and more terrible its destruc- 
tion in the day when so vast a stewardship is brought to 

128 






w 



I 





its reckoning. " If the light that is in thee be darkness, 
how great is that darkness ! » If such an heir of immor- 
tality wastes and abuses its inestimable privileges, throws 
down into ruins such a temple of glory, devastates such 
possibilities of infinite worth, dignity, and enjoyment, there 
can be nothing before it but the certainty of judgment and 
fiery indignation, nothing in the resurrection of such ruin 
after death, but the shame, everlasting contempt, and misery 
of the second death ; Capernaum at Heaven's gates deeper 
than Sodom and Gomorrah in hell ! " How art thou fallen 
from heaven, 0, Lucifer, son of the morning ! » There 
have been individual minds, that have experienced the 
reality of that sublime, lucid reception in the world of 
woe, written as with flashes of lightning in the prophet 
Isaiah. Hell from beneath is moved for thee to meet thee 
at thy coming : it stirreth up the dead for thee, even all 
the chief ones of the earth : it hath raised up from their 
thrones all the chief ones of the nations! The planets 
burning, the stars falling from heaven, as when a fig-tree 
casteth her untimely figs, are wholly inadequate images 
of such a ruin. 

Now I say that the mightiest intellects, if admitting at 
all the light of evidence from Heaven, must experience, in 
the strongest manner, the weight of such truths, as if moun- 
tains were hurled upon the soul, and can bear them only 
by being themselves borne up in the very hand of the Al- 
mighty beneath them. 

Such a mind was Mr. Webster's. Before his death, 
what between the realities of imperfection and of evil in 
life on the one side, (which if all that God knows of any 
one of us were not only known to the world, but malig- 
nantly heralded and magnified, who could endure us?) and 

9 129 




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V- 






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i 



the exaggeration of enmity and slander on the other, he 
could hardly have been set down by multitudes as one of 
the few mighty, wise, noble, that had bowed in humble 
belief and submission at the cross of Christ, or adorned 
the doctrine of God our Savior by the permanent and 
consistent example of a watchful piety. Alas ! the very 
standard of piety, in too many cases among our public men, 
is painfully loose, and the arena of political life is a fearful 
trial of the integrity of a Christian soul. Nevertheless, 
the conviction of these truths, and the meditation of a vast 
awakened consciousness upon them, together with awe and 
solemnity at the very idea of God, had early filled Mr. 
Webster's mind, into whatever temporary forgetfulness 
he might have been led astray from duty and from prayer. 
The powers of the world to come stood plain in their 
infinitude before him. Almost every word that he uttered 
on the subject of God and Eternity bore the stamp, not of 
speculation, but of unfathomable, grand, irresistible con- 
viction. The die of his whole mind, sure, gigantic, un- 
hesitating, had come down, as beneath the weight of Eter- 
nity, upon that coinage. "Every man/ 7 said he, "must 
stand or fall alone. He must live for himself, and die for 
himself, and give up his account to the omniscient God, 
as though he were the only dependent creature in the uni- 
verse. The Gospel leaves the individual sinner alone with 
himself and his God. To his own master he stands or 
falls. He has nothing to hope from the aid and sympathy 
of associates." Hence, too, Mr. Webster's strong, em- 
phatic declaration, that when he came into the house of 
God, he would have the Gospel made a personal matter, 
with a personal application. " If clergymen, in our days/' 
said he, " would return to the simplicity of the Gospel, and 

130 




UuiMSjmsxuueivtmw Kai 




preach more to individuals, and less to the crowd, there 
would not be so much complaint of the decline of true 
religion. Many of the ministers of the present day take 
their text from St. Paul, and preach from the newspapers. 
When they do so, I prefer to enjoy my own thoughts, rather 
than to listen. I want my pastor to come to me in the 
spirit of the Gospel, saying, ' You are mortal ! Your pro- 
bation is brief— your work must be done speedily. You 
are immortal, too ; you are hastening to the bar of God ; 
the Judge standeth before the door ! ' When I am thus 
admonished I have no disposition to muse or to sleep." 

In the spirit of such convictions Mr. Webster uttered 
that great testimonial on occasion of the death of Jeremiah 
Mason. "Religion," said he, "is a necessary and indis- 
pensable element in any great human character. There 
is no living without it. Religion is the tie that connects 
man with his Creator, and holds him to his throne. If 
that tie be sundered or broken, he floats away, a worthless 
atom in the universe, its proper attraction all gone, its des- 
tinies and its whole future nothing but darkness, desola- 
tion, and despair. A man with no sense of religious duty 
is he whom the Scriptures describe in such terse and ter- 
rific language, as living without God in the world. Such a 
man is out of his proper being ; out of the circle of all his 
duties ; out of the circle of all his happiness ; away, far, 
far away from the purposes of his creation. A man, a true 
man, with all his proper sentiments and sensibilities alive 
in him, in this state of existence, must have something to 
believe and something to hope for, or else, as life is ad- 
vancing to its close, all is heart-sinking and oppressive." 

Mr. Webster seemed at times to be listening to the 
same deep utterances, when absorbed in the view of some 

131 






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1 | 1 




scene of grandeur in the created universe ; and indeed, 
the works of God as well as his word, are adapted to fill 
a thoughtful sober mind with reverential awe, as a reflec- 
tion of the glory of him who created them. They are 
adapted to produce a strong sense of the creature's insig- 
nificance as well as the Creator's glory, and at the same 
time to deepen the sense of individual responsibility be- 
neath the all-penetrating eye of God. 

" When I consider the heavens, the work of Thy fingers, 
the moon and the stars, which Thou hast ordained, what 
is man, that Thou art mindful of him, and the son of man, 
that Thou visitest him ! " These were the words with 
which the great departed statesman of our country looked 
up, one starry night, into the heavens, and in a deep and 
solemn tone uttered his feelings. He was himself an 
eminent example of the elevating and disciplinary power 
of God's works, as well as his Word, over the greatest 
minds that have ever inhabited our world. We love to 
think of his grand, unaffected, and pure appreciation of all 
that was sublime in nature ; the simplest, homeliest objects 
too, and employments of the rural world, delighted him. 
But many have had thai appreciation, with nothing of his 
great sense of the glory of Divine Truth ; his deep rever- 
ence for which, and his recognition of its doctrines as pre- 
senting, in Christ, the only stay and salvation of the soul, 
afford an example worthy to be regarded by all intelligent 
and thoughtful men. The foundations of his great intel- 
lect seemed laid in the truths of God's word, even as the 
granite mountains of New England are rooted in the 
earth's primordial foundations. Yea, at times, it almost 
seemed as if the natural orbit of his mind carried him on 
a vast sweep through the expanse of spiritual truth, as an 




orb of heaven rolls in the surrounding ether. When such 
a mind enters the invisible workl, it is a mighty and sol- 
emn spectacle. The curtain, dark and impenetrable, that 
separates existence here from life there, almost visibly 
opens, for one moment, and the being passes and disap- 
pears forever. An immortal being, for a moment he is 
here, in a moment he is gone, and the most penetrating 
mind can gain no more sign of his continued experience, 
than the image of an arrow can be traced in the air that 
it has cleaved upon its passage. No mortal eye may fol- 
low, no imagination can conceive, the realities of glory or 
of gloom that burst upon the soul. One thing we believe, 
they are an experience as instantaneous as its transition 
from the body. When the soul passes from its earthly 
tabernacle, it is in the immediate presence of its Maker ; 
" the dust returns to the earth as it was, and the spirit 
unto God who gave it." And though to the dwelling- 
place of God there be distance in space so immeasurable, 
and worlds to pass so innumerable, yet did the Lord of 
infinitude declare to a penitent believing soul, " To-day 
shalt thou be with me in Paradise." 

There is a majestic and solemn impression from the 
death of Mr. Webster, such as we have never known con- 
nected with the death of any other public man. A vast, 
capacious mind has passed away, perhaps the greatest in- 
tellect at this day upon our globe. There is unutterable 
solemnity in that awakening, just before the moment of 
death, with the exclamation, I still live! Was there in the 
unuttered consciousness, a remembrance of those glorious 
words of Christ, " He that believeth in me, though he were 
dead, yet shall live ; and whosoever liveth and believeth 
in me shall never die ! " What if, when the soul passed, 

133 









© 




we could hear from the other side, I still live ! But no 
tone of spirit has ever come from that world to this. No 
funeral bell that tolls there is ever heard here, nor any 
shout of welcome to the .world of glory, though the halle- 
lujah were enough to shake the concave of the universe, 
even as there is joy in all heaven over one sinner that re- 
penteth. There, as here, the voice of true life, of life vic- 
torious over death, is this, " Nevertheless I live ; yet not 
I, but Christ liveth in me ! " And though there could be 
a soul in mortal frame upon our globe so prodigious as to 
unite the mental capacities of all the human race in one 
vast intellect, yet, even for such a mind there could be no 
true life but in Christ, no scaling of the heavens by intel- 
lectual power, no possible salvation but in Christ, and 
him crucified. The mightier the intelligence, the mightier 
the guilt and ruin, if the soul have not come to God in 
humble penitence and faith through him. And it is a 
thought of ineffable solemnity, that a time will come, when 
by the progression of ages, the poorest and most contracted 
intellect will have reached, in the expansion of eternity, a 
vastness of conception, a power of intuition, a breadth of 
knowledge, and an experience of suffering or bliss greater 
than could be measured by the present united intelligence 
and capacity of all mankind. When this starry universe 
hath passed away, every soul will still live, embodying an 
expression or experience of greater worth and costliness 
than the preciousness and glory of all material worlds. 

There is a present foreknowledge and brooding sense 
of these truths, in the inmost consciousness of all mankind. 
It is manifested in the care with which a nation stops to 
listen, when it feels in its heart the tread of a great spirit 
on the confines of eternity, when, indeed, the greatest of 

134 






its minds is drawing sensibly near to the portals of the 
grave. By the power of intense uninterrupted sympathy, 
and telegraphic simultaneousness and swiftness of intelli- 
gence, a nation was gathered in almost breathless expecta- 
tion at Mr. Webster's dying bed. And what, amid the 
sense of impending grief and loss immeasurable, was the 
over-mastering care, the all-controlling question, but only 
this. In what state, and with what countenance could he 
meet the King of Terrors ! With what experience did 
this magnificently endowed mind find itself neariug the 
world of judgment ? In very truth, a moral lesson, great 
and powerful, is conveyed with amazing solemnity and 
weight, in the fact of the universal anxiety to know how 
such a man died, whether he were prepared, whether he 
were a Christian, whether he went through the Valley of 
the Shadow of Death leaning on the rod and the staff of 
the Great Shepherd. Somehow or other, in the exit of 
such a mind, there is an impression of the value of the 
soul ; and the exceeding great and infinite importance of 
its preparation for a life beyond the grave, far deeper 
than is made in the passage of a multitude of ordinary 
men. And when such a mind is passing, it seems to tell, 
as never was told before, the insignificance of all worldly 
cares, all earthly distinctions. The only thought of 
anxiety and interest is the approaching meeting with a 
holy God. And why such anxiety, such solemnity, such 
awe ? Because, the whole world feel, looking into the in- 
visible world, or waiting the disappearance of a giant 
intellect beneath its portals, that the soul passes to a 
reckoning for eternity, and that the existence there en- 
tered on is, according to the character here developed, a 
retribution of eternal happiness or endless woe. As a 

135 





man soweth, so also shall he reap. '' He that soweth to 
his flesh shall of the flesh reap corruption. He that sow- 
eth to the spirit shall of the spirit reap life everlasting." 
And nothing but the law of the Spirit of life in Christ 
Jesus can set a man free from the law of sin and of death. 
There is also manifest in such a case the impression, the 
deep consciousness, produced by a wide spread knowledge 
of the Gospel, in its assured and indefatigable meaning, 
that not to the external life merely, not to the tenor of an 
outward morality, does the eye of the Omniscient look for 
the adjustment of the grand reckoning, and the determina- 
tion to what class of spirits the individual belongs, and 
what world of retribution he shall inherit, but to the 
posture and character of the soul in its affections toward 
God, to the relation which it has assumed in reference to 
the great salvation provided and offered to Christ, to the 
nature of the reliance and hope maintained by the individ- 
ual ; and, in one case at least, adopted even in the last 
hour. /, the Lord, search the heart. Is there reliance on 
a Savior there? Was the soul resting upon Christ? 
Had it sought and found in him that mercy which is in 
him alone, and which must be sought this side the grave, 
or is never found ? Did it look to the Lamb of God, who 
taketh away the sin of the world? Did the greatest 
intelligence, the most commanding mind, the man of purest 
imagination, brightest genius, and most virtuous life, come 
like the broken-hearted publican, God be merciful to me 
a sinner ? Did he stand loftily upon a general indefinite 
reception and belief of Christianity, or was his guilty soul 
laid hold upon by the truth, as the truth is in Jesus, mani- 
festing itself the power of God unto Salvation, bringing 
the heart to the fountain of a Savior's blood, and bap- 

136 





tizinsr the whole creature with his love, as a new creature 
iu Christ Jesus ? Did the idol of a nation's pride and 
admiration expect mercy, lay any claim to mercy, or ever 
express the hope of mercy, on the ground of any purity of 
life, any majestic sentiment of reverence toward God, 
any sublimity of patriotism, any grandeur of moral or in- 
tellectual endowment, or experience any integrity of deal- 
ing, any amiableness, or benevolence of nature and of life ? 
If he did, so did not the great intellectual and moral 
Apostle, by whom God wrote the Epistle to the Philip- 
pians, the most prominent, sanctified, instructed and in- 
spired model and example of religious faith in the New 
Testament, the record of whose experience in regard to 
his own unrivalled accomplishments and virtues runs 
thus ; those things that were gave to me I counted lost 
for Christ, and all things loss, for the excellence of the 
knowledge of Christ Jesus my Lord. All that was his 
own he beat down, and even his very intellectual capaci- 
ties he undervalued, considered with reference to self, or 
any possible or imagined merit in them, and as a guilty, 
wretched, dying soul, clung only to the love of Jesus. 
Now that is the question put by the universal anxious 
heart in regard to every soul, commanding attention and 
homage by its powers, and attracting a breathless watch 
of solemn, unuttered thought over the dying bed : Did he 
also thus take refuge in Christ ? Did he, like the great 
Apostle to the Gentiles, and in obedience to the divine in- 
struction and command through him, trust only in the 
merits and righteousness of the Son of God, in the efficacy 
of his death, in the power of his cleansing blood, in the 
justifying and forgiving grace of God through him ? Did 
he come crying, ' : This is a faithful saying, and worthy of 

137 





i all acceptation, that Christ Jesus came into the world to 
save sinners, of whom I am chief ?" Did he come, dream- 
ing to enter heaven by an indefinite faith, with the boast 
of having nothing technical in it, and no particular theol- 
ogy; or did he come by a very particular theology, that 
of Christ and him crucified ? Did he come, not merely 
with reference for the dread majesty and glorious word of 
God, and not merely relying in general upon God's mercy; 
but, did he come in God's only and appointed way? For 
there is one well-known, appointed way, and only one, 
unto salvation, and this, the whole world, under the pres- 
sure and light of the Gospel, feels; one name, and only 
one, under heaven, given among men, whereby we can be 
saved. And it is not to the calm indifference, or majestic 
composure, or freedom from trepidation, with which a 
soul may advance toward the grave, that the heart and 
conscience of the world look for assurance, unless they see 
and know such firmness to be derived from the assurance 
of the Gospel, and from the presence of Christ. The 
world know and feel that otherwise, not to be afraid of 
death is a mark of stupidity or fool-hardiness, or utter 
debasement of a man's immortal nature in sin, or sacred- 
ness of conscience, judicial and irremediable; all men feel 
that it is no mark of intellectual greatness so to die as a 
fool dieth, or to have no bands in one's death ; or like a 
pagan philosopher, to wrap one's robe about him, and in 
the face of the blackness of darkness forever, lie down as 
to pleasant dreams. Moreover, it is not to any mere 
general, expressed or implied belief in Christianity, or 
patronage of its truth, that men look for the assurance of 
a man's salvation, unless there be the known experience 
of the regenerating grace of God along with it; but to an 
anchorage of the soul, technically and absolutely in Christ, 

138 





ill 



where the Gospel plainly shows that it must be anchored, 
or be lost; to a deliberate, earnest, intelligent, humble 
faith in the Lord Jesus, as the sinner's only refuge. 
There we most earnestly and ardently hope that Mr. 
Webster sought and found mercy; there, in the bosom of 
a Savior's love ; that the great departed patriot and 
statesman, so profoundly venerated and lamented, so 
deeply beloved, and so wondered at, almost of all man- 
kind, for his capacious faculties, became there a converted 
little child, a child-like nature, renewed and illuminated 
by Divine Grace. And we thank God for any ground to 
believe, any substantial evidence, that so lighted and com- 
forted, he passed through the dark valley of the Shadow 
of Death. We fervently thank God for any evidence 
vouchsafed, and for every increase of that evidence, that 
he did not permit a mind so transcendently endowed, a 
mind of such clear conviction of heaven's truth, and 
brought so near to the gate of heaven's glory, to be lost. 

But there is our only hope; not in any righteousness 
of life; one sin would drag an angel down, and an angel's 
holiness could not atone for one sin. The greatest sinner 
may be just as easily forgiven as the smallest, for Christ's 
sake, but only thus. Sin levels us all to the same condi- 
tion of hopelessness and helplessness, save only in Christ. 
The grandest, most gigantic intellects and hearts, alike 
with the most despised publicans and harlots, must be con- 
verted, and become like little children, or they shall in no- 
wise enter into the kingdom of heaven. And disastrous 
indeed would be the impression from a great man's dying 
moments, from a death-bed penitence and prayer, if it 
made men feel that they could safely defer their religion 
to the last hour, and then enter heaven by the profession 
of their faith in Christianity. The greatest assurance 

139 





that can in any case be derived from a death-bed repent- 
ance is only a faint, trembling, hesitating, anxious hope. 

And here let me say, as to the manner in which the 
faith of great minds has sometimes been proclaimed, as if 
God needed it, as if it almost conferred a distinction upon 
Jehovah — it is the mark of a soul that has not itself 
bowed at the foot of the cross, or seen and reverenced the 
dread and holy majesty of the Godhead, so to regard the 
homage of any created intellect. For it to be paid is 
simple necessity and duty; for it not to be paid is infinite 
guilt, madness and misery. And yet, the illustrious ex- 
ceptions to our text are too often spoken of, even by 
Christians, as if they conferred an honor on Christianity. 
Thus, we not unfrequently hear Sir Isaac Newton re- 
ferred to in such a manner, that a being ignorant of man's 
depraved and ruined condition, and of the nature of the 
provision made for his recovery in the Gospel, instead of 
regarding Newton's religious belief as the only element 
of true greatness in his character, its only preserving 
element, the element without which he would have been 
fit only for perdition, would be very likely to conceive of 
Christianity as some despised and feeble thing, which the 
philosopher had generously condescended to take under 
his patronage, and give to it the sanction of his great 
philosophic name. Alas ! the great and learned of this 
world too often have considered it one mark of a strong- 
mind to be destitute of religion, and sincere piety has been 
with them the subject of contempt. And with all their 
boasted strength of mind, they have exhibited such pitiful 
weakness, and want of moral courage, that of any personal 
recognition of the preciousness of Jesus, or any manifesta- 
tion of attachment to him, or any thing like contrition and 

140 






tenderness of conscience in the sight of God, they would 
have been ashamed and mortified in the presence of their 
fellow-sinners. Never, since the mind of Webster was 
first trained in the catechism of Divine Truth, did he ever 
seem to have any sympathy with such infidel and pitiful 
weakness. He fully recognized the claims of God. It 
was the greatest glory of his intellect so to recognize 
them. His firm belief in Divine revelation, his familiarity 
with the Bible, his love and his study of it, are an impres- 
sive testimony to young men, in the presence of the sneer- 
ing infidel spirit they are so likely to encounter, where 
jests upon Divine things are fashionable— an impressive 
testimony from confessedly the vastest intelligence of this 
age that 'the grander the mind of the observer, the deeper 
and more profound will be its conviction of Divine Truth, 
and its sensibility to the manifestation, in it, of the Divine 
glory. Such a mind as Webster's could not but believe. 
Its intuitions of truth, its native perception and sense of 
the overpowering internal evidence of the presence and 
spirit of God in the Scriptures, were too much like open 
sight to be doubted— too vivid and potential to be resist- 
ed. And Mr. Webster was characterized by a deep, 
grave tenderness of sympathy and sensibility— an oceanic 
profoundness of the affections as well as of thought— so 
that the pathos of the Scriptures, as well as their infinite 
reach of sublimity in incomprehensible directions of celes- 
tial wisdom, could be appreciated by him. 

The sudden withdrawment of his mind from its accus- 
tomed sphere in this world, is like the shadow of a mighty 
eclipse. It had so long filled that sphere, in the sight of 
all the nation, that it had become like the fixture of a 
great mountain, so constant and familiar, that only stran- 

141 








I 



gers go forth to gaze and realize its grandeur. But the 
moment he is really gone, what a sense of immense vacuity 
and loss, somewhat as if Mont Blanc were in one night an- 
nihilated from the landscape. In the universal sense of 
this national bereavement there is a great lesson. We 
never rightly value great and leading minds, till they are 
passed from us. Then indeed the nation begins to feel 
the preciousness of such a boon, by its withdrawal. We 
take our note of mind, in some cases, more by its loss than 
its presence. And there are not wanting those, so violent 
and bitter is party-spirit, and regardless of all the sancti- 
ties of life and truth, who will belie and vilify, for partisan 
purposes, the noblest and most honorable men. The very 
treasures of our country's pride, the reputations, whose 
greatness is inextricably interwoven with the brightest 
permanent tissue of historic national glory, are thrown 
into the mud, and trampled beneath the swinish hoof of 
envy, malice, and slander. But the moment a truly great 
man is gone, how the majesty of his greatness rises on the 
universal consciousness, and envy sickens and dies, and 
slander is buried in the hole of its own venom. Men 
begin to feel that God's hand may, in these repeated and 
great rebukes, be laid on us in anger. For indeed God 
has of old threatened punishment to a nation in this very 
form, when it proves unmindful of his will, and ungrateful 
of his mercies. " Cease ye from man, whose breath is in 
his nostrils, for wherein is he to be accounted of ? For, 
behold! the Lord, the Lord of Hosts, doth take away 
from Jerusalem and from Judah the stay and the staff, the 
whole stay of bread, and the whole stay of water ; 
the mighty man and the man of war, the judge and the 
prophet, and the prudent and the ancient, the captain of 

142 




HI 













fifty and the honorable man, and the counsellor, and the 
cunning artificer, and the eloquent orator. And I will 
give children to be their princes, and babes shall rule over 
them. And the people shall *be oppressed, every one by 
another, and every one by his neighbor; the child shall 
behave himself proudly against the ancient, and the base 
against the honorable." When God does this in judg- 
ment, what judgment can be more terrible ? When God 
takes away a consummate statesman, counsellor and elo- 
quent orator like W t ebster, how immense, how irreparable 
the loss ! I say irreparable; for it takes a half century to 
rear such greatness to its fullness of command and power, 
even when the vast original mind is given; and experience 
has proved that it is God's will to scatter such minds 
only over ages. When can men hope to look upon his 
like again ? I speak it in no vain admiration of mere in- 
tellect, but in the consideration of God's beneficence in 
such a gift, when I say that to hear such a man's grand 
public utterance were worth a journey round the globe. 
And what a prodigious loss here when God resumes such 
a mind ! It is not at all likely that he has any other such 
now in training, and we may greatly fear that the age of 
homeliness and simplicity, and the circumstances of toil 
and danger being over, under which such a mental and 
physical frame as Webster's was knit and indurated, the 
age of discipline, so near the second heroic period of our 
history being passed, under the influence of which the 
second race of great patriots rose up, there may be a 
dearth of great souls, and a prevalence of small ones. 
Moreover, the very danger to our institutions most im- 
minent is hinted at in this passage of Scripture, that of an 
unprincipled multitude left to the lateral anarchy of their 

143 





own oppression, choosing for their rulers only men who 
will flatter their base purposes, demagogues, who will suit 
and indulge their passions, and can be made their' tools, 
and thus, at the sway of an imperious voting mob, mea- 
sures may be carried without the shadow of right; and in- 
deed, might itself may be boldly and successfully asserted 
as the only rule of justice. Now when God raises up a 
commanding mind, and gives it a wide, commanding in- 
fluence, so that thousands and hundreds of thousands move 
at its leading, so that, indeed, the mind of a whole nation 
almost follows it, and hangs upon it, as the tidal wave of 
ocean hangs upon the moon, and rolls round with it; when 
God raises up such a mind as he did in the case of Wash- 
ington, and keeps it right, — keeps it firm in integrity, 
undeviating in principle, incorruptible in patriotism, one 
such man may be a second father of his country; and 
what greater public gift does God ever bestow ? And 
when such a planet, or any thing like such a planet, even a 
planet with incalculable aberrations, is taken from its 
sphere, if there be no bright orb hung up in its place, no 
new constellation rising where it blazed so long, and be- 
came the confidence of many hearts, and the wonder of all, 
what can be deemed of such a disaster but that it is a 
mighty rebuke and warning from the hand of God ? 
Surely, it should lead us humbly to him, in more constant 
and earnest prayer, for our rulers, for our leading men in 
stations of responsibility and influence, and for God's 
gracious guidance of the people to right choices in their 
elections. Nothing can save us, if God do not guide us. 
Of what amazing importance are comprehensive, judicious, 
well-balanced minds at the head of the affairs of a nation 
so vast as ours, rising to such overwhelming power, be- 

144 




II 1 

V 



coming soon, of necessity, so complicated in her policy 
with other nations. When new paths have to be struck 
out, lines of policy determined by precedents, that must 
have an influence upon hundreds of millions of men to 
come, and upon the stability and prosperity of the nation, 
of what incalculable worth is a large and pure patriotism, 
an honorable mind in our public councils, a superiority to 
the tricks and spirit of intrigue, and an example of the 
possibility and nobleness of sincere and generous party 
difference. When God takes away such men, it is cer- 
tainly a time of rebuke and affliction to the nation, and 
such bereavements may, unless Goo avert the evil, be fol- 
lowed by great hazard and damage. The loss of such a 
mind ought to awaken into earnest vividness and impor- 
tunity the sense of our dependence upon God for our 
country's security and welfare. For not to ourselves 
alone can be restricted the results of our movements, our 
progress, our principles, our policy. The time has come 
when we are acting for the world, nor has any man any 
adequate view of the dependence of the world's future 
course upon our career. There is but one way in which 
we can be faithful to the world, and that is by being faith- 
ful to our God and Savior. There is but one thing that 
in the multitude and prevalence of smaller men can supply 
the loss of great guiding intellects, and that is, a sincere 
and firm regard to what is right and just. That is always 
plain, simple, easily understood. Great principles, recti- 
tude and justice, God's truth and guidance, can keep us, 
when great men cannot. Righteousness, indeed, is the 
greatest and rarest of all greatness, and nothing else can 
keep us, if we let that go. Surely his salvation is nigh 
them that fear him. that glory may dwell in our land. 

10 145 






Yea, the Lord shall give that which is good, and our land 
shall yield her increase. Righteousness shall go before 
him, and shall set us in the way of his steps. But if, in- 
stead of righteousness, we take for our guidance a selfish, 
grasping expediency, disregarding the claims of humanity, 
justice, and God's word, then are we destined to work 
out, for the good of God's universe by our own perdition, 
the mightiest of all demonstrations ever yet made on 
earth, that great numbers and riches of population, and 
great advancing knowledge and intelligence, and the 
utmost refinement in science and art, and freedom of the 
press, and a perfect equality of suffrage and of representa- 
tion, and a degree of personal liberty unrivalled in the 
world, may only be the avenues of supremacy in national 
wickedness and national ruin. But if so, then will be 
brought to pass the prophetic language of Milton, and we 
shall be seen, " as if God were weary of protecting us, to 
have passed through the fire, that we might perish in the 
smoke !" 

The Lord God of our fathers, who hath hitherto kept 
and guided us, in infinite mercy preserve us from such 
ruin, and work out for us a complete national salvation ! 

The various sub-committees having completed their 
arrangements for celebrating the obsequies designed as 
an appropriate token of respect to the memory of the 
illustrious deceased, which were also intended to render to 
the cit^ens of this city an opportunity of manifesting 
their sympathy for the great and irreparable loss they 
and the whole country had sustained, — the Committee on 
Programme, assisted by the Grand Marshal, presented 
the following 

146 



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PROGRAMME OF ARRANGEMENTS 

FOR THE 

JfHtural Cmmffttus 

IX HONOR OF THE LATE 

HON. DANIEL WEBSTER. 

On Tuesday, November 16, 1852. 

The Joint Committee, appointed by the Common Coim 
cil of the city of New York, to make the necessary ar- 
rangements for solemnizing the obsequies of the late Hon. 
Daniel Webster, have adopted the following Programme 
of Arrangements, for the occasion. 

COLONEL LINUS W. STEVENS 

HAS BEEN UNANIMOUSLY SELECTED AS THE 

fii-iroa KVsfni of the $w, 

AND THE FOLLOWING PERSONS HAVE BEEX NAMED, (WD WILL ACT AS HIS 

AIDS. 

ROBERT SMITH, Esq., 
ELIJAH F. PURDY, Esq., 
FREEMAN CAMPBELL, Esq., 
SAMUEL OSGOOD, Esq., 




Gex. WM. L. MORRIS, 

" F. E. MATHER, 
Col. JOHN W. AVERY, 

" W. R. VERMILYE. 

" W. DODGE, 

<; R. M. HOE, 

" JOHN W. STILES, 

;< A. E. BRINKERHOFF. 

" J. C. BURNHAM, 
Maj. ROBERT B. BOYD, 

'•• JAMES CONNER, 
HENRY B.COOK, Esc. 
S. S.WARD, Esq., 
JOHN T. OGDEN, Esq., 
WM. S. MORRIS. Jr., Esq., 



RICHARD SCOTT, Esq., 
A. P. PENTZ, Esq., 
JAMES R. WALTER, Esq., 
GEO. A. BUCKINGHAM, Esq., 
CHESTER DRIGGS, Esq., 
WM. B. DINSMORE, Esq., 
WM. T. CHILD, Esq., 
JOHN H. WHITE, Esq.. 
JOHN A. BUNTING, Esq., 
WALTER E.HARDING, Esq., 
ZOPHAR MILLS, Esq. 



The procession will move from the Park, at 1 o'clock, 
p. M., precisely, and will proceed down Broadway, around 
the Park to Chatham street, through Chatham street to 
the Bowery, up the Bowery and Fourth avenue to Astor 
place, through Astor place to Broadway, and downBroad- 

117 








MJjl 

■_-.----~ - '- - ■: '■- '■ r 7-! a ttr- b ' -" - ^^^a&w^ 




way to the Park, in front of the City Hall, on passing 
which point, each division will be under the orders of its 
respective marshal. 

The closing ceremonies of the day will take place at 
Metropolitan Hall, at half-past seven o'clock, p. m., as 
follows : 

1. Prayer by the Rev. Edwakd Lathrop. 

2. Funeral Dirge by Dodworth's Band. 

8. Funeral Oration by James T. Brady, Esq. 

4. Benediction by the Right Rev. Bishop Wainwright. 

The arrangements of the day will be under the command 
of the Grand Marshal. 

The several persons having charge of the church and fire 
alarm bells in the city, are requested to cause the same to 
be tolled, from the hour of 1 o'clock, p. m., until the close 
of the procession. 

The owners and masters of vessels in the harbor, and the 
proprietors of the various public buildings in the city, are 
requested to display their colors at half mast, from sunrise 
until sunset. 

It is also respectfully requested that our fellow-citizens 
close their several places of business during the moving of 
the procession. 

They are also requested to wear the usual badge of 
mourning on the left arm. 

The several orders, societies, associations, trades, and 
other bodies, are requested to assemble at such places as 
they may respectively select, and repair to the places of 
rendezvous, by 12 o'clock, m. 

The different divisions, in the following programme, will 

be designated by a white banner, with the appropriate 

number of each in black. 

us 




ORDER OF PROCESSION. 
jTtrst Hinlsiuu. 

Troop op Cavalry, as escort to the Grand Marshal, 
Under command of Capt. Joshua A. Varian. 

COLONEL LINUS W. STEVENS, 

GRAND MARSHAL. 

Col. John W. Avery, 
Samuel Osgood, Esq., 
J. R. Walter, Esq., 



Col. W. R. Vermilye, 
Major R. B. Boyd, 
Freeman Campbell, Esq., 



Col. William Dodge, 

SPECIAL AIDS. 

gnu a. 
first -§ifriit0U, gito n a r It Bhtt pliiia. 

Under the command of 
MAJOR GENERAL CHARLES W. SANDFORD, 
As a military escort, in reverse order, as follows 
FOURTH BRIGADE, 

Commanded by Brigadier General John Ewen, 

COXSISTING OF 

SIXTY-NINTH REGIMENT, 

Commanded by Col. C. S. Roe. 

TWELFTH REGIMENT, 

Commanded by Col. Henry G. Stebbins. 

ELEVENTH REGIMENT, 

Commanded by Lieut. Col. Waterhouse. 

149 





TENTH REGIMENT, 

Commanded by Col. William Halsey. 

THIRD BRIGADE, 

Commanded by Brigadier General William Hall, 

CONSISTING OF 

NINTH REGIMENT, 

Commanded by Col. B. C. Ferris. 

Shod. 

EIGHTH REGIMENT, 
Commanded by Col. T. F. Devoe. 

SEVENTH REGIMENT, 
Commanded by Col. Abram Duryea. 

SECOND BRIGADE, 

Commanded by Brigadier General George P. Morris, 

CONSISTING OF 

SIXTH REGIMENT, 
Commanded by Col. Thos. F. Peers. 

£a.i)d. 

FIFTH REGIMENT, 

Commanded by Col. Andrew Warner. 

g \ i) d . 
FOURTH REGIMENT, 

Commanded by Col. Charles Yates. 

•B it I) D . 
FIRST BRIGADE, 

Commanded by Brigadier General Charles B. Spicer, 

150 




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CD 



CO 

o 
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CONSISTING OF 

SEVENTY-SECOND REGIMENT, 
Commanded by Col. A. S. Yosburg. 

THIRD REGIMENT, 
Commanded by Lieut. Col. Menck. 

& i] I] t> . 

SECOND REGIMENT, 

Commanded by Col. John A. Bogert. 

& VI 3 • 
FIRST REGIMENT, 

Commanded by Col. J. B. Ryer. 

f Brntth Ubisimt. 

Marshal, 
Gen. WILLIAM L. MORRIS. 

Aids. 
Col. R. M. Hoe, William S. Morris, Jr 

George A. Buckingham, Esq. 

Officiating Clergymen. 
Orator of the Day. 



Esq. 



in 



^ 



CAPT. FRENCH, 

AS A 

GUARD OF HONOR. 




m 









CAPT. FRENCH, 

AS A 

GUARD OF HONOR. 






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The following Pall-Bearers, thirty-one in number, being the 
number of States in the Union: 

Richard T. Mulligan, General Striker, 



George A. Wood, 
Charles A. Stetson, 
Joseph N. Lord, 
John D. Kating, 
Daniel Lord, 
James Lynch, 
Jacob A. Westervelt. 
Richard Tweed, 
Anthony Compton, 
Sylvanus Gedney, 
Nathan Peck, 
Thomas Jeremiah, 
Frederick R. Lee, 
Jacob Aims, 
Gen. Frederick Pentz, 



Philo V. Beebe, 
Charles G. Stoppani, 
d. a. cushman, 
Franklin Cooley, 
Theodorus Vantine, 
Doctor Drake, 
William Smith, 
Andrew Mills, 
Thomas O'Conor. 
John Dimon, 
Adam Blackledge, 
Hiram Ketchum, 
John E. Ross, 
John C. Green, 
Wm. F. Havemeyer. 




Mayors of New York, Brooklyn, Williamsburgk, Jersey 

City and Newark. 

Tke Common Councils of tke cities of New York, Phila- 
delphia, Brooklyn, Williamsburgh, Jersey City, 
Newark, Paterson and adjoining cities, 
in the following order : 

The Board of Aldermen, 
Preceded by their Sergeant-at-Arms, and headed by their 

President. 

The Board of Assistant Aldermen, 
Preceded by their Sergeant-at-Arms, and headed by theii 

President. 

Officers of both Boards. 

152 










Committee of the Common Council of the City of 

Philadelphia. 

Common Council of the City of Brooklyn. 

Officers of the Common Council of the City of Brooklyn. 

Mayor and Common Council of the City of Williainsburgh, 

with their officers. 
The Common Council of Jersey City, with their Clerks, 

Marshal, and others. 

The Common Council of the City of Newark, with their 

Clerk and other officers. 

Ex-Presidents of the United States. 

His Excellency Governor Hunt and Suite. 

Heads of Departments of the State. 

Senate and Assembly of the State of New York. 

Members of the Senate and House of Representatives of 

the United States. 

Major- General Johx E. Wool, and Suite, commanding the 

Eastern Division of the United States Army. 

Officers of the Army of the United States. 

Commodore Charles Boorman, Commander of the Navy 

Yard and Station of New York, with the Officers 

of the Navy of the United States, and 

Civic Officers of the Navy Yard. 

New York State Society of the Cincinnati. 

I Ijiru" Uiuisiiitt. 

Marshal, 

Col. JOHN W. STILES. 

Aids. 

Col. A. B. Brlnkerhoff, Capt. J. T. Ogdex, 

Wm. B. Dlnsmore, Esq., Zophar Mills, Esq. 

Ex-Members of Congress and of the State Legislature. 





Ex-Mayors, ex-Aldermen and Assistants, of the cities of 

New York, Brooklyn, and other cities. 

Heads of Departments and Officers of the City Government. 

Foreign Ministers and Consuls. 

Judges of the United States, State and City Courts. 

District Attorney. Members of the Bar. 

Members of the Press. 
Sheriff, Under-Sheriff and Deputies of the City of 

New York. 

Register, County Clerk and Coroners of the City of New 
York, with their officers. 

Police Magistrates, with staves. 
Marshal of the United States for the Southern District of 

New York, with his Deputies and other Officers. 

United States District Attorney, Collector of the Port of 

New York, with the Clerks and other Officers of 

his Department, Surveyor, Naval Officer, 

and other officers connected 

with their Departments. 

Postmaster of the City of New York, with his Secretary, 

Assistant and Clerks. 

Board of Education of the city of New York, preceded 

by its President and Clerk. 

President, Trustees, Faculty and Students of 

Columbia College. 

President, Council, Faculty and Students of the University 

of New York. 

College of Physicians and Surgeons. 

Hose and Fire Companies. 



.fnurtjj Siiristuti. 

Marshal, 
Gen. F. E. MATHER. 

154 



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Col. J. C. Burnham, Maj. James Connor, 
Walter E. Harding, Esq. 

•B q i) D . • 

New England Society. 

New York Academy of Medicine. 

New York Medical Society and Physicians and Students. 

Teachers and Pupils of Grammar School of 

Columbia College and University. 

Professors of the Free Academy, and Pupils of the same. 

College of Pharmacy. 

New York Historical Society. 

Irving Literary Union. 

United States Naval Lyceum. 

National Academy of Design. 

Engineers' Institute. 

Chamber of Commerce. 

General Society of Mechanics and Tradesmen of the 

city of New York. 

American Institute. 

Mechanics' Institute, Officers and Members. 

The several Printers' Societies of the City of New York. 

Board of Trade. 

Masters, Wardens and Harbor Masters of the 

Port of New York. 

Pilots of the Port of New York. 

Members of the Industrial Congress. 

Teachers' Association. 

Teachers and Pupils of the several Public, Ward and 

Private Schools. 

155 





£Sgks> %%x^m^jL£Ji . . ■jg-ir'Ltm. 






1^> 



President, Superintendent, Officers and Pupils of the 
Deaf and Dumb, and Blind Institutions. 

Veterans of 1812 and 1814, in stages, tendered for their 
use by the New York Stage Proprietors' Association. 

f\\\\) Dhision. 
% q i| D . 



Marshal. 
ROBERT SMITH, Esq. 

Aids. 
John A. Bunting, Esq., 
Henry B. Cook, Esq. 

Young Men's Whig General 

Committee. 
Democratic Republican Gen- 
eral Committee. 



Marshal. 
ELIJAH F. PURDY, Esq. 

Aids. 
Adam P. Pentz, Esq., 
Sylvanus ,S. Ward, Esq. 

Young Men's Democratic 
Rep. General Committee. 
Democratic Whig General 
Committee. 



Society of Tammany, or Columbian Order. 

Various Political Ward Associations of the city of 

New York. 
Various Political Associations of the adjoining- 
cities and towns. 

liitlj Dinisinn. 

Marshal. 
WM. T. CHILD, Esq. 

Aids. 

Chester Driggs, John H. White, 

Richard Scott. 

& D >) C> . 
Order of United Americans. 

156 




£ 



-522 




II 



Si 



The Societies, Associations and Trades are requested to 
appear in the order prescribed, and to walk six abreast. 

Bands will play Funeral Dirges in common time. 

Such societies and associations as have not yet reported 
will be assigned places in the order in which they shall 
report themselves to the Grand Marshal. 

No banner bearing political devices or inscriptions will 
be admitted in the procession. 

The First Division of New York State Militia, and the 
civic societies, will assemble at twelve o'clock, precisely, at 
the following places, preparatory to being brought into 
column: 

The Division of Militia in Broadway, left resting on 
Chambers street. 

Officiating Clergymen, Orator of the Day, the Clergy 
and Pall-Bearers, in the Governor's room. 

Mayors of the several cities, and ex-Presidents, Foreign 
Ministers and Consuls, in the Mayor's office. 

Common Councils of New York, Brooklyn, Jersey City, 
Newark, Williamsburgh, and the Trustees of the villages 
of Hoboken and Jamaica, together with their officers, in 
room No. 8, City Hall. 

Governors, Lieutenant-Governors, Heads of Departments, 
Members of the Senate and Assembly, Senators and Mem- 
bers of Congress of the U. States, in the Governor's room. 

Society of Cincinnati, Revolutionary Soldiers, ex-Mayors, 
ex-Members of the Common Council, and Heads of Depart- 
ments of the City Government, in the Governor's room. 

Officers of the Army and Navy, in the Keeper's room, 
City Hall. 

Veterans of 1812 and 1814, in stages, in Murray street. 

157 




J3 - 






Judges of the Courts, District Attorney, Members of the 
Bar, ex-Members of Congress, in the Law Library room, 
new City Hall. 

Sheriff and his Deputies, in Sheriff's office. 

County Clerk, Register, and Coroner, with their officers, 
and the Police Magistrates in the County Clerk's office. 

United States District Attorney, United States Marshal 
and his Deputies, Collector and Surveyor of the Port, Naval 
Officer, Postmaster, and the Officers connected with their 
several Departments, in the United States Court room. 

Civic Societies of Brooklyn, Newark, Williamsburgh, 
Paterson and other places, in Park place. 

President, Trustees, Council, Faculties and Students of 
Columbia College, and of the University, in the Supreme 
Court room, new City Hall. 

Medical Societies and Students, College of Pharmacy, 
Historical Society, United States Naval Lyceum, National 
Academy of Design, Board of Trade, Masters, Wardens, 
Harbor Masters and Pilots of the Port, American Institute, 
Mechanics' Institute, in the Superior Court rooms, new City 
Hall. 

Officers and Pupils of Blind, and Deaf and Dumb Insti- 
tutions, in office of Commissioner of Repairs and Supplies, 
new City Hall. 

The closing ceremonies, consisting of Prayer, Oration 
and Benediction, will take place at the Metropolitan Hall, 
in the evening. 

The troops of the United States, stationed at the differ- 
ent posts in this harbor, are requested to fire minute-guns, 
from noon till sunset. 

The Veteran Corps will fire minute-guns, from the Bat- 
tery, during the procession. 

158 




lr 



The carriages for the use of the Pall-Bearers, and Socie- 
ty of the Cincinnati and Revolutionary soldiers, will be 
under the direction of Asher Taylor, First Marshal of 
the city. 

The owners and proprietors of all public and licensed 
carriages and vehicles are directed to withdraw the same 
from the streets through which the procession is to pass, 
after the hour of half-past 11 o'clock, a. m. 

The Chief of Police is charged with the enforcement of 
the above order. 

The owners of private carriages and vehicles are also re- 
spectfully requested to conform with the wishes of the 
Committee in this respect. 

No obstruction of any kind will be permitted in the 
streets through which the procession is to pass. 

THOMAS J. BARR, 
WILLIAM J. PECK, 
ABRAHAM MOORE, 
JACOB F. OAKLEY, 
A. A. DEXMAX. 
JOHN BOYCE, 
OSCAR W. STURTEVAXT, 
RICHARD T. COMPTOX. 

President. 



Committee on the 
part of the 
Board of Aldermen. 



ISAAC U. BARKER, 
THOMAS WHEELAX, 
HELMUS M, WELLS, 
JOSIAH W. BROWN, 
SAMUEL R. MABBATT, 
EDWIX BOUTOX, 
JOSEPH ROGERS, 
JONATHAN TROTTER, 

President. 



] 



Committee on the part 

of the Board of 
Assistant Aldermen. 



The day set apart by the joint Committee of 
Arrangements for the solemn ceremonies in honor 
of the distinguished dead, opened with a pleasing 




159 




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brilliancy — the sun spread its glowing light upon 
the city, which, with the early and busy prepara- 
tions of decorating the habiliments of w^oe, in 
reality cast a melancholy cheerfulness over the 
whole city. But, toward noon, heavy and dark 
lowering clouds intervened between the sun and 
the earth, which threw a gloomy aspect over the 
whole city — the heavens, like the earth, put on 
their sable drapery — mute evidences of the gene- 
ral sorrow. Business of all kinds was very gene- 
rally suspended for the day. Flags flying at half 
mast — bells tolling, and the firing of minute-guns 
reverberating through the city, produced a mark- 
ed impression of sympathy upon the countenances 
of the people. 

At the hour designated in the programme, the 
various military companies, corporate authorities, 
associations, societies and citizens, having arrived 
in detachments at their several places of rendez- 
vous, were formed intp column by the respective 
Aids to the Grand Marshal, who, upon the signal 
of the tolling bell at the appointed hour, placed 
himself at the head of the procession, which then 
commenced its march. 

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The entire route of the procession, on every 
side, was lined with devices of unique and classic 
conception, inscriptions, busts, monuments, and 
other imposing reminiscences of respect to the 
great man's memory. 

Upon the arrival of the funeral car in front of 
City Hall, it received the honors of a marching 
salute from the military, as they filed around the 
esplanade, and occupied the entire space in front 
of the Hall ; and each division, as it passed 
through the Park, in review, was dismissed. 



1 



€mman'm h tire (£&nunq. 

Metropolitan Hall had been engaged, and was 
appropriately decorated for the close of the 
obituary services rendered as an honor to the 
memory of the greatest American statesman. 

The entire building was crowded to its utmost 

capacity by ladies and gentlemen, gathered from 

all sections of the country. The platform had 
been greatly enlarged, to render more ample 

accommodations to the immense concourse of 

11 161 



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S'VLM£ 




1 distinguished citizens, military and civic ; the 
clergy, dignitaries of the State, corporate author- 
ities, Grand Marshal and Aids, and the Guard of 
Honor. 

REV. EDWARD LATHROP, D. D., 

commenced the ceremonies by offering up the 
following 

Jprmjcr. 

Almighty and everlasting God, we adore Thee as the 
King Eternal, immortal, invisible— the only wise God. 
Our fathers trusted in Thee, and were not confounded. 
We bless thee for the knowledge of Thyself, through 
Jesus Christ, our Lord, by whom we have access to that 
Throne, and on account of whose merits we obtain for- 
giveness of our sins and hope of eternal life ; and we 
acknowledge our indebtedness to Thee for every good 
and perfect gift. We would recognize our obligations to 
love and serve Thee, and we humbly invite Thy blessing- 
while we seek to derive instruction from the impressive 
dispensation of the Providence which has brought us 
together upon this occasion. We give Thee hearty 
thanks for our civil and religious liberties, and for the 
lives of those whom Thou, from time to time, hast raised 
up to expound and defend those inestimable blessings. 
We thank Thee for the bestowment of those rare intel- 
lectual endowments which Thou hast conferred upon some 
of our fellow-men above others, and by which the prin- 
ciples of government and of law are unfolded and made 

TOW I ■ I ■— ■■■ ■■■!— — III! 




ill 



plain to the comprehension of inferior minds. We would 
not be unmindful of these Thy gifts, and we pray that we 
may ever appreciate those institutions of our country and 
of religion, that one adapted to the development and 
right use of these Thy bestowments— of these the noblest 
powers of man. We bless Thee especially at this time 
for the gift to our nation of him whom Thou hast recently 
removed from his high place of power upon earth, and 
whose loss we now deplore. We bless Thee for his 
wisdom in council, for his service to the State, and for his 
life-long devotion to the good of his country. And now, 
Thou sovereign disposer of events, while we bow in 
humble and uncomplaining submission to Thy will, we 
devoutly entreat Thee to enable us to derive profit from a 
review of the life and character of him whom Thou hast 
caused to pass away from among the living. Whatever 
was wise in his counsels, may we appreciate and honor; 
whatever was just, may we adopt; whatever was excel- 
lent, may we imitate; and thus may he live over again in 
our own and the generations following. Impress us, we 
implore Thee, at this time, with a proper sense of the 
transitiveness of all earthjy good — with an abiding con- 
viction of our own frailty, and with an intelligent estimate 
of that true and only lasting honor which cometh from 
Thee. May we be partakers of the inheritance which is 
incorruptible and undefiled, and that " fadeth not away." 
We earnestly supplicate Thy blessing upon the family of 
thy deceased servant; upon the official circle from which 
Thou hast removed him, and upon all the rulers of our 
nation, from the President of these United States to the 
lowest in authority. May our nation be ever the object of 
Thy fatherly care; may peace and prosperity dwell in 

163 




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our border; may our liberties never be surrendered; and 
may our Union be perpetuated to the remotest time. 
And now we beseech Thee, Thou Most High, to extend 
like blessings throughout all nations. May the sceptre of 
every tyrant be broken; may the oppressed of every clime 
go free; and may the Gospel of thy Son, which giveth 
liberty to the captive and hope to the despairing, be pro- 
claimed to all the dwellers upon earth. Hear us, in these 
our petitions, and accept these our offerings and prayers, 
through Jesus Christ our Redeemer. Amen. 

<£\)c JFnncral JDtrxje, 

from the Oratorio of St. Paul, was performed by 
DODWORTIPS CELEBRATED BRASS BAND. 

JAMES T. BRADY, Esq., 

then came forward, and delivered, in an impress- 
ive manner, the following 

©ration. 

This is a most solemn and instructive occasion. The 
chief city of a great nation clothes herself in mourning, 
and with a deep sorrow, which no outward ceremony can 
adequately attest, weeps over the loss of him to whose 
o-io-antic intellect and eminent services the nation owes 
so much of its prosperity and renown. To-day our streets 
were draped in sable, and exhibited the funeral array of 
freemen paying just homage to exalted worth. The old 
and the young — men of all nations — of all creeds, religious 
and political, suspended their ordinary employments, for- 
got all party attachments and prejudices, and united in 



164 




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exhibiting their profound regret for a bereavement which 
falls so heavily on our country. We felt, while the melan- 
choly procession moved on, as if " all that was mortal " of 
the illustrious- deceased was indeed before us. May we 
not now feel that we have reached his grave ? The grave 
of Daniel Webster ! What though he moulder beneath 
the turf of his beloved Marshfield, the whole of our broad 
land has an equal title to his tomb as to his services and 
his fame. We are beside his grave ! Be it here our aim, 
while we appropriately honor, his memory, to draw from 
his brilliant career lessons of advantage to us all. We 
should not leave this spot until the reflections which here 
suggest themselves have been wisely appreciated. If there 
be any here who credit the antiquated maxim that repub- 
lics are ungrateful, let this occasion extirpate from his 
mind the dishonoring error. Turn your glance to Europe. 
Behold there the audacious despot, who, skulking under 
the shadow of a great name, aims a matricidal and assassin 
stab at his native land. In vain does he employ the power 
of his station, combined with the mighty influence of a 
church, and the willing vassalage of an army, to gain from 
his subjects even an insincere show of approbation. And 
now look here ! An entire people spontaneously honor 
the very name of one to whom they never owed allegiance 
or duty, except such as the grateful heart cheerfully 
awards to a benefactor. They canvass with free speech 
all the actions of the great man's life. They are not 
blind to the faults and errors from which no human char- 
acter can be exempt. They forgive these blemishes, and 
gratify their hearts in yielding enthusiastic praise to his 
majestic intellect and noble patriotism. This is higher 
and more enviable gratitude than any act by which, during 

165 








WJLM^^f^: 



his life, he might have been elevated to political position. 
Why do we thus honor the name of Webster ? Even if 
high lineage or great wealth could command our regard, 
he possessed neither. The humble parents, who gave him 
no other inheritance than their fair fame, little thought, 
when the poor farmer boy went forth from his lowly home 
to seek a fortune in the great world, that the day would 
come when that world would resound with his praises, 
and boast of him as an ornament of humanity. Their 
best hopes were centered in his elder brother, whom I 
mention with the more pleasure, because of the reference 
made to him by the deceased in the dedication of the first 
volume of his works. " I dedicate this volume to you 
(addressing his nieces) not only for the love I have for 
yourselves, but also as a tribute of affection to his memory, 
and from a desire that the name of my brother, Ezekiel 
Webster, may be associated with mine so long as any 
thing written or spoken by me, shall be regarded or 
read." 

It is an interesting fact, that when a subordinate station 
in a county court was offered to the young Daniel, his 
parents considered that advancement quite equal to his 
merit, and they heard with astonishment what they deem- 
ed his presumptuous refusal of the preferment, fearing 
that the arrogant estimate of his own capability would 
prevent his prospering in life. Happily, they survived to 
estimate more wisely the great endowments with which 
Heaven had favored him — to know that he commanded the 
admiration and controlled the judgment of tribunals most 
eminent for dignity and learning — that his eloquence and 
reason fascinated and guided senates — that his achieve- 
ments became part of his country's history — part, indeed, 

166 






of the country itself, and that his fame, extending every- 
where, was destined to endure until the end of time. They 
left this world, consoled with the cheering assurance that 
their own name would, through their boy, obtain honor- 
able perpetuity. Their hearts were gladdened, too, with 
the knowledge that his great successes could not diminish 
his love for them, nor make him otherwise than proud of 
his origin. In other lands, where society is divided into 
castes, under aristocratic institutions, we find instances in 
which some low-born youth attains, through genius or 
acquirements, admission even to the highest rank. The 
friends of strong government point exultingly to these 
exceptions, as evidence that such governments foster in- 
tellectual worth. But the interest of the incidents is di- 
minished much, when we consider that the gifted plebeian 
is received by the aristocracy for their own advantage or 
glory, and that almost invariably, on attaining eminence, 
he turns his back forever on the interests, as well as the 
society, from which he ascended. It is a hapftr circum- 
stance, that under our government the highest prefer- 
ments can be reached only through the people, and can 
only be retained Ly using preferment for the people's 
good. Yet no consideration of this character influenced 
Webster. He was too great and too proud a man to 
forget or conceal the love or the recollections of his child- 
hood. He has said, with deep sincerity and exquisite 
pathos, " I love to dwell on the tender recollections, the 
kindred ties, the early affections, and the touching narra- 
tives and incidents which mingle with all I know of our 
primitive family abode. I weep to think that none of 
those who inhabited it are now among the living; and if 
ever I am ashamed of it. or if I ever fail in affectionate 

167 









veneration for him who reared and defended it against 
savage violence and destruction, cherished all the domestic 
virtues beneath its roof, and through the fire and blood of 
seven years' revolutionary war, shrunk from no danger, 
no toil, no sacrifice, to serve his country, and to raise his 
children to a condition better than his own, may my name, 
and the name of my posterity, be blotted forever from the 
memory of mankind." This is the language of one who 
could not imitate the poor sycophants, that hide from tlie 
world the name, and erase from their hearts the recollec- 
tion of some devoted, but humble mother — some honest, 
but struggling father, merely that they may be welcomed 
in a social circle higher than that of their youth. He 
could not do so, because he had that pride which makes 
the man of intellect seek no society but that in which he is 
gladly received, and makes him feel that no society can 
confer on him any honor to which his merit has not already 
entitled him. The great man, whatever his origin, obtains 
no lustre from social rank, but confers upon it all the dis- 
tinction' of which it can intelligently boast. 

Webster cherished those sympathies with his race 
which the humble are most likely to feel and enjoy. He 
was in heart, in speech, and action, a true patriot. A 
o-enerous desire to promote the happiness by sustaining 
the rights of men pervaded his whole life. It was evinced 
in a brilliant appeal for freedom when the cause of Greece 
excited his youthful enthusiasm, and showed its bright 
flame all undiminished when, though seventy winters had 
I passed over his head, he gladdened the hearts of all his 
countrymen, by his chivalric — his truly American — letter 
to the Austrian minister. ' He commenced life in poverty. 
He depended on his own labors to support himself, and 

16S 




I 



contributed to the maintenance of his aged parents. His 
mental organization and tastes led him to adopt the pro- 
fession of the law; he chose it with no intention to per- 
form its high duties merely for wealth, or to gain that 
notoriety which is often mistaken for true fame, but with 
a just appreciation of its honorable character, and of the 
responsibilities incurred by all men who devote their lives 
to the advocacy of human right. He was a judicious and 
enlightened student. He began at the sources of the law, 
and diligently traced the streams of jurisprudence in all 
their directions and to all their ends. He made himself 
master of the English common law — of its modifications 
under our government— of the principles and rules which 
control the large jurisdiction of equity, and adorned the 
knowledge, thus obtained, by making himself thoroughly 
familiar with the history of the science, and the literature 
with which its classic votaries, in every age and clime, 
have gracefully decorated it. He did more. With the 
aid of his superior intelligence, by dint of study and re- 
flection, encouraged and sustained in his progress by an 
ardent love of country, he made himself pre-eminent for 
his profound acquaintance with that other branch of juris- 
prudence, entirely modern and purely American, which 
affects the rights and obligations, legal and political, 
e-rowino- out of the constitutional construction of our con- 
federacy, and its various members and their relations and 
dependencies. He distinguished himself, while yet young, 
by very able arguments as to the respective powers of the 
general and State governments — and soon secured a repu- 
tation as a constitutional lawyer, of which it is the highest 
praise to say, that it is not inferior to that of the great 
American Chief Justice in the tribunal, adorned by whom, 

169 





won 



whose presence, that reputation was deserved and 
Of his peculiar traits as a lawyer I will not here 
speak in detail. They are well understood by all his legal 
brethren. But it is gratifying to state that to the very 
close of his life lie prized his reputation as a lawyer, loved 
and honored all who proved worthy the distinctions of his 
profession, and evinced an unchanging belief in what he 
said, with so much beauty and force, when the Bar of 
Massachusetts convened to pay a tribute of respect to the 
memory of Judge Story: — " Justice, sir, is the great in- 
terest of man on earth. It is the ligament which holds 
civilized beings and civilized nations together. Wherever 
her temple stands, and so long as it is duly honored, there 
is a foundation for social security, general happiness, and 
the improvements and progress of our race. And who- 
ever labors on this edifice with usefulness and distinction, 
whoever clears its foundations, strengthens its pillars, 
adorns its entablatures, or contributes to raise its august 
dome still higher in the skies, connects himself, in name, 
and fame, and character, with that which is, and must be, 
as durable as the frame of human society." 

It will always be a delightful reminiscence of my life, 
that I enjoyed the great honor of being associated with 
Mr. Webster in the last case to which, as counsel, he 
brought the influence, not only of his great name, but of 
the talent, knowledge, industry and energy, which it 
seemed neither time nor debility of body could impair 
while his intellect remained alive. It was a memorable 
association. Youth, as I felt myself beside the veteran 
whose labors I sought to lessen, I could not but feel that 
the aged, but sturdy oak, which I sought to maintain, pre- 
served its pristine vigor, and that our cause could lean 

170 






on that alone, nor want any other support. It was a sub- 
lime illustration of the consoling truth, that the divine in- 
telligence which the Almighty kindles in man may con- 
tinue to burn with the brilliancy of its first illumination, 
when the temple, made radiant by its holy flame, has begun 
to perish. He was required to perform labor from which 
many a younger man would have shrunk, and at times 
what was physical of the great man fretted under its toil; 
but the mind reproached the machine it governed, and 
steadfastly and steadily, without murmur or complaint, 
pursued its investigations, never pausing, except to be 
certain of truth; never satisfied until it was capable of 
demonstration. During all the time allotted to this pre- 
paration, he performed all his duties in the State Depart- 
ment with his usual attention and industry. In his jour- 
ney through the devious passages of a complicated history, 
it was a sufficient pleasure to me if I could lend the glim- 
mer of my feeble capacity to prevent his stumbling over 
obstacles which might not arrest his attention, as he con- 
templated the higher regions of the investigation. I was 
delighted with his patience, his willingness to be inform- 
ed, the anxiety he evinced to be conducted to the real 
merits of the controversy, cheerfully accepting the ser- 
vices of any guide, if he could at last be led from the dark- 
ness into that open day, the light of which, afterward 
concentrating in him as an intellectual sun, he could 
diffuse over the cause, and the tribunal, that the fertilizing 
irradiation might secure the fruits of enlightened justice 
in full maturity. You can excuse the pride with which I 
refer to the kind attention he paid to my poor effort in 
-the struggle which it remained for him to terminate in 
triumph. I can never forget the evident emotion with 

171 __ 






which a large and intelligent auditory listened to the 
clear, learned, logical, and conclusive demonstration, by 
which he advanced to the point he set out to reach, taking 
captive with him the judgment of all his hearers. A man 
of more years than are prescribed as the limit of human 
existence — a lawyer, at a period of life when, in the ordi- 
nary course of nature, zeal would be chilled, the interest 
in a cause materially lessened, care as to its decision soon 
overtaken by indifference, the applause of success or the 
chagrin of defeat equally transitory; and yet, old as he 
was, overtasked as one might well conclude, he suggested 
to all of us how gigantic, how irresistible, must have been 
his efforts in years gone by, when thus, in his age, he out- 
stripped all competitors in the race for success or fame. 
But a higher, a nobler result, attended his last profes- 
sional triumph. He made us all feel what dignity and 
honor the profession could derive even from one lofty 
display of courtesy and consideration by its greatest 
member, where a smaller intellect might have exhibited 
only a groveling pursuit of that advantage over an oppo- 
nent in debate, so often secured by means which injurious- 
ly affect the profession itself. He spoke and acted so as 
to present, in the most interesting light, the character of a 
true, educated and refined lawyer, from whose demeanor 
the principle and breeding of the gentleman should never 
be absent. He closed his professional career in a State 
which deserves all honor for its unostentatious devotion 
to law and order, and the compliment which he paid to its 
jurisprudence and judiciary could not have been more 
meritoriously bestowed. New Jersey, never boastful of 
what it has done for the republic, little likely to be carried 
away by the vanity which a State, like an individual, too 

172 




I 



I 





often exhibits, may nevertheless acknowledge her grati- 
fication that the last forensic effort of the greatest Amer- 
ican lawyer was made in her presence and on her soil. 

I will speak presently of Mr. Webster's political life— 
of his actions in the great theatre where he met the con- 
stant gaze of his countrymen— where he very often com- 
manded the attention of the whole civilized world, and 
where he performed for the benefit of mankind those pa- 
triotic deeds, gratitude for which shall abide forever in 
the heart of this nation. But before passing to that most 
important part of his career, I must exhibit him to you in 
other and interesting relations. Certainly not in this 
country or age— I think in no country or era— has an in- 
tellect quite equal to that of Webster appeared on earth. 
His superb head— that lofty "dome of thought"— his ex- 
pansive brow, and the searching expression of his profound 
eye, indicated that there was no distance to which his in- 
telligence might not reach— no combination, process, or 
result of thought, too large for the grasp of his concep- 
tion. Unlike most men, who enjoy, at a distance from 
close and familiar examination, a reputation for more 
greatness than they possess, Webster actually enlarged 
as you approached him, and in the quiet of a parlor, im- 
pressed you more, if possible, than in the most important 
efforts before the public. His mind was prodigious in 
compass and power. . Ideas familiar amongst men, when 
submitted to his reflection, seemed to enlarge, and after 
being forged and fashioned anew in his brain, came forth 
with increased power, and seemed rather to bestow 
strength on language than to receive force from it. 
Though his perceptions were rapid, it was his habit 
subject to his reason and judgment even what seemed 

173 



d self- 




evident, and to use no expression, to deem none ready for 
use, until it fitted precisely the thought he meant to con- 
vey. In this he was a cautious and distrusting man; he 
formed no opinion except on mature consideration — he 
spoke from preparation — he avoided the affectation of 
purely extemporaneous speech, when the importance of an 
occasion required that speech should be judicious and 
valuable — he was Athenian in the elaboration of his great 
public addresses — he trusted his language to no hurried or 
loose report, where it was possible to have it correctly 
expressed under his own supervision. Approaching a 
subject, he was not satisfied with a comprehensive glance 
at its general character or bearing, but calmly and closely 
surveyed all its parts, considered them in their various 
relations, and gathering a reliable judgment from the 
whole examination, laid it before you in words as pon- 
derous as they were clear. He never uttered a mystical 
sentence. There was no imperfection in the thought — no 
ambiguity in the expression. He made all men under- 
stand him by thoroughly understanding himself. He 
knew that if we do not express ourselves clearly, it is be- 
cause we have nothing clear to express. He made 
thoughts simple, and was not afraid to use simple words 
in uttering thein. And yet, when the dignity of one 
thought, or of a succession of noble thoughts, warranted 
a corresponding dignity of language, the grandest words 
bore his ideas along, and his sentences moved forward 
with majestic march. He was a scholar. He had stored 
his mind with treasures of classic lore, and received on 
his style the impress of that which delighted him in the 
great authors. Who that heard it will ever forget the 
last and elegant address which he delivered before the 

174 



£si 






|;' 



| 







American Historical Society in this city. Our ripest 
scholars — men distinguished in every intellectual depart- 
ment — clustered around the old man, and watched, with 
an interest that increased at every step he took, his jour- 
ney over the literary world of antiquity. The great 
lawyer, the great statesman, the patriarch of three-score 
and ten, was gathering flowers and forming garlands in 
the classic fields where he had so often reveled in his 
youth. He spoke of the old authors from familiar ac- 
quaintance with them, led them before us, introduced 
them as his dear friends, and described their qualities at 
once with the familiarity of friendship and the discrimina- 
tion of a Censor. The great historians lived before us. 
We grew intimate with Tacitus, Livy, Sallust, and Thu- 
cydides. We spent a delightful hour in society to which 
some of us had never before been admitted, and from 
which others had unwisely absented themselves too long. 
While Webster enriched his mind with acquisitions from 
the past, he also judiciously profited by modern literature. 
He had the highest admiration of Shakspeare, whose 
works he not merely read, but studied. To this we may 
often attribute his happy selection of words. Perhaps it 
explains how he obtained the purity and power of diction 
for which his speeches and writings are so remarkable. 
He did not attempt that eloquence which abounds in 
gorgeous imagery, words that burn and sparkle, and 
periods harmonized into music. Careful, happy as he 
was in clothing the thought, he yet valued the thought 
itself more than the drapery. His style of composition, 
with far greater strength than Addison's, is not less 
simple. In what he has written or spoken you perceive 
at once. The idea is never obscured by 



his meaning 



175 








5 ^ ^ E 



ornaments. All his works exhibit beauty, but it is the 
beauty that consists with strength. And it is not errone- 
ous to say, that if Webster had to depend for his equal 
place amongst the greatest men in history, exclusively on 
his claims as a mere orator, his compositions as a writer, 
or his nobler achievements as a statesman, he would be 
well entitled to association with any man of any age or 
country. But it is as the statesman — the American states- 
man — that Daniel Webster is destined to have the widest 
and most enduring fame. In this respect he is American, 
and the property of America. It was his good fortune to 
render his country services which cannot be too highly 
appreciated. The time and place of his birth, and the 
history of his family, naturally inclined him to seek 
political distinction. He was born before our revolution- 
ary struggle had been crowned with the success which 
established the republic, and made our land an asylum 
and a refuge for the oppressed. His father took part in 
that struggle. The stories of its perils, its defeats, its 
sufferings and its successes, were related to him in his 
early life by the actors in the great event. He imbibed 
and cherished the patriotic feeling which animated those 
heroes. He felt that to them, to all the patriots of the 
Revolution, a debt of eternal gratitude was due, and it 
could only be discharged by insuring to all their pos- 
terity, to their country, forever, the free and happy form 
of government, to obtain which so much suffering was en- 
countered and unrivalled courage shown. He resolved to 
exert all his power in effecting that great purpose. He 
made himself familiar with constitutional history. He 
considered fully the eventful incidents which occurred be- 
tween the close of the war and the adoption of the federal 

176 





HI 



i 






constitution; and having deliberately formed the opinion, 
which never changed, and which he never for a moment 
distrusted, that the constitution of the United States, 
maintained and enforced in its every provision, in spirit 
and in letter, was the only means which human wisdom 
could contrive to hold the States of our confederacy in 
close and happy association, he determined that the 
greatest efforts of his whole life should be made in 
preserving that constitution inviolable— intact, just as it 
came from the hands of the sages who devised it. The 
constitution of the United States! The productions of 
the first American Congress elicited from Lord Chatham 
his memorable eulogiuin. He declared that, for solidity 
of reasoning, force of sagacity, and wisdom of conclusion, 
no body of men could stand in preference to that Con- 
gress. If the works thus alluded to deserved the high 
encomium bestowed by England's most enlightened states- 
man, in what terms can we sufficiently praise the wonder- 
ful, and, I hope, imperishable compact, which gave us a 
national character— which has enabled us to cover the 
nation with glory, and which affords all the means of 
achieving for our country in the future, now opening to 
it so full of brilliant promise, a greatness and prosperity 
never before witnessed on earth. The Federal constitu- 
tion bound the States together by ties of common in- 
terest, through securities for common happiness, and 
leaving them so much separate sovereignty as was not 
surrendered for the general good of all, established a 
national government, no power to improve which, in any 
respect, consistently with the existence of such a govern- 
ment at all, has ever been, or ever will be, discovered. 
That ligament of united interests should always have 

12 177 




been, and should forever continue to be, preserved with 
reverence— guarded with unceasing care — observed by all 
men within the land — maintained by every citizen to the 
utmost extent to which he has the means of giving it sup- 
port, and kept high above and beyond all bad influences, 
which either a fanatic or a traitor could have the inge- 
nuity or the wickedness to direct against it. That con- 
stitution first inclosed in its parental embrace only thir- 
teen colonies; but it was invested with an inherent power 
to enlarge its generous capacity — to receive into its arms 
new States — nay, the whole continent — even territory 
beyond— to shelter all that wide expanse with its pro- 
tecting care, and to diffuse happiness and secure honor to 
all. Webster lived to see eighteen new States in happy 
fraternal connection with the original thirteen; and, thank 
God! he died undisturbed by the slightest fear that the 
holds of affection which keep them thus together can ever 
be loosened while the name of American continues to de- 
serve honor. If we take a broad view of his entire poli- 
tical life, we find that it was as the champion of the federal 
constitution that he rose to the greatest altitude before 
his countrymen, displayed the most thrilling eloquence, 
won his greatest victories, and entitled himself to the 
largest gratitude. In that championship he encountered 
the first intellects of America — the brilliant, enthusiastic 
Hayne — the acute, pure, profound Calhoun, and others, 
whose 'names your own recollections will furnish. The 
passage between Hayne and Webster has always been 
considered unequaled for interest by any similar incident 
in parliamentary history. The stimulus of the fiery as- 
sault was required to awaken in Webster the whole 
slumbering energy of his nature. When thus roused, he 

178 



■' & 



L- 



CTSlMMnil Mhmj.mmj.ijqy f Yflia i ilWBW III inM 



imm i rMMUMayjgjuaiaum 






developed, iii its full majesty, the stupendous intellectual 
power which he had never before been provoked to em- 
ploy in debate ; and the result was, not that Hayne 
ceased to be considered great, but that Webster proved 
himself to be greater. Hayne lost nothing of that repu- 
tation, so brilliant for a man of his years, but the reputa- 
tion of Webster, fixed at that hour, gave him a position 
before the American people, than which none ever has 
been, nor can be more exalted. In the discussions be- 
tween Calhoun and Webster, all arguments that the 
ablest or most subtle minds could suggest, appeared on 
either side of the great question as to the exact boundary 
between the power of the general government, and that 
of a State, and the precise nature of the compact between 
the constituent parts of our national organization. This 
is not a time to consider the points involved in that con- 
troversy. It is our pride to know, that the intellectual 
conflict of the two master minds furnished a display of 
splendid genius, knowledge of political science, eloquence, 
and reason, which charmed, while it astonished, a senate 
that could number, amongst its other illustrious members, 
the warm-hearted, enthusiastic, fearless and gallant Henry 
Clay. Webster survived his two worthy compeers; but 
it delights every true American heart to know that the 
great triumvirate defended the Union against its last 
danger. In the senate chamber, which shall no more 
behold either of the three illustrious men whose stirring 
tones its walls have so often echoed, Webster delivered 
the funeral eulogium on Calhoun. Yes, in that chamber, 
where not many years before the great Southerner came 
from the very bed of death, and with marble brow, an eye, 
the effulgence of which could only cease with life, with a 

179 



- ■ ! . 



,k^& 







spirit, which even the cold touch of the great destroyer 
could not for a moment appal, presented to the body 
which his mind had so often instructed, his purity always 
awed, and his dignity elevated, the last appeal for the 
maintenance of those doctrines which, whatever men may 
think of their truth, all will say he advocated with sin- 
cerity, and with fidelity, with zeal, and with ability never 
surpassed in the world. But let him speak of that noble 
man, whose own grand language never illustrated a char- 
acter more worthy : — " Mr. Calhoun was calculated to be 
a leader in whatsoever association of political friends he 
was thrown. He was a man of undoubted genius and of 
commanding talent. All the country and all the world 
admit that. His mind was both perceptive and vigorous. 
It was clear, quick and strong. • • • • His demeanor 
as a senator, is known to us all, is appreciated, venerated, 
by us all. No man was more respectful to others; no 
man carried himself with greater decorum, no man with 
superior dignity. I think there is not one of us, when he 
last addressed us from his seat in the senate, his form still 
erect, with a voice by no means indicating such a degree 
of physical weakness as did, in fact, possess him, with 
clear tones and an impressive, and, I may say, an im- 
posing manner, who did not feel that he might imagine 
that we saw before us a Senator of Rome while Rome 
survived." 

We are not called upon now to review the course of 
Webster, in reference to the great questions of policy, 
which, during his long public life, provoked between 
hostile parties in the country so much fierce controversy. 
We differ with our most honored statesmen, and with one 
another on subjects which concern us all, and the action 

180 




upon which is to affect us all, but about which we cannot 
be united in sentiment, as we must be in interest. I trust, 
however, that recent events in our country, the solemn 
admonition furnished by the decease of the great men on 
whom we have been so long accustomed to rel} ; , that the 
increasing necessity to cultivate a brotherly feeling all 
over the land, and to advance the glory while we guard 
the safety of our beloved republic, will dispel the rancor 
of party feeling, encourage the utmost liberality in mat- 
ters of opinion, and incite us to indulge rivalry only in 
the effort to surpass each other in fidelity and devotion to 
the country, which we may not all serve in the same way, 
but all have the power to serve well. I leave Webstee's 
general political life to the historian — to his countrymen 
— to the posterity, who will judge it calmly and with 
right appreciation. But from that eventful career I must 
select, for this occasion, that by which I think it was, and 
is, most adorned. I refer to the last and most memorable 
struggle which he made, to preserve for you and for me, 
for this land and its people, now, and through the long 
lapse of coming ages, "one country— one constitution — 
one destiny." He was impelled to that holy enterprise by 
that love for the constitution which he has expressed on 
so many occasions, and always so well : — " I am bound to 
it," said he, "I am bound to it by indissoluble ties of 
affection and duty, and I shall cheerfully partake in its 
fortunes and its fate. I am ready to perform my own ap- 
propriate part, whenever and wherever the occasion may 
call on me, and to take my chance among those upon whom 
blows may fall first and fall thickest. I shall exert every 
faculty I possess in aiding to prevent the constitution from 
being nullified, destroyed, or impaired; and even should 

181 





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„ ■^-'^H*-^ - 



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— . a-jj gs*"«B. 



I see it fall, I will still, with a voice feeble, perhaps, but 
earnest as ever issued from human lips, and with fidelity 
and zeal which nothing shall extinguish, call on the peo- 
ple to come to its rescue." This was uttered at an early 
time in his political life. The period arrived when he 
thought it was demanded of him to go forth and meet the 
blows. He did as he had promised, and made sturdy battle 
in the good old cause. Hear him at the age of seventy : 
" Never did there devolve on any generation of men 
higher trusts than now devolve upon us, for the preserva- 
tion of this constitution, and the harmony and peace of all 
who are destined to live under it. Let us make our gene- 
ration one of the strongest and brightest links in that 
golden chain which is destined, I fondly believe, to grap- 
ple the people of all the States to this constitution for 
ages to come." I will furnish one more illustrative ex- 
tract from a letter which, on the 27th of January 1851, 
Mr. Webster addressed to James A. Hamilton, Esq., 
and others, of Westchester, New York : " For myself, I 
confess that if I were to witness the breaking up of the 
Union and the constitution of the United States, I should 
bow myself to the earth in confusion of face ; I should 
wish to hide myself from the observance of mankind, unless 
I could stand up and declare, truly, before God and man, 
that by the utmost exertion of every faculty with which 
my Creator has endowed me, I had labored to avert the 
catastrophe." What spirit-stirring words are these? 
What a response they command from every heart faithful 
to our Union. May the sentiment thus expressed pervade 
the whole mind, and possess the entire soul of America 
through all time. May it be taught to the American 
youth as part of his prayers, to be uttered, and felt when 

182 



H 



II 



■■-■:. )■-,■ -> —-a 











I uttered, as a declaration of duty only second to that 
which he owes to Heaven. And when he sends up his 
orisons to the Throne of Grace itself, may the appeal for 
his own salvation be attended always with one for the sal- 
vation of that country, which nature and all the dictates 
of patriotism call upon him to defend, support and honor, 
and for which he should be ready at any moment to lay 
down his life. Young men of America ! let those words, 
of one who passed his life that you might enjoy the happi- 
ness which now is yours, sink deep into your hearts. You 
have health and strength. With you it is yet the morning 
of life. You move and prosper in the light of institutions 
created and secured by patriots. The generous enthusi- 
asm which animated their spirits should burn brilliantly 
in your bosoms. The patriotism which actuated them, 
should, in your young hearts, be no sluggish sentiment, 
fading and falling in unworthy repose, but a living, active 
principle, animating and guiding your thoughts, your pur- 
poses, and your actions. As you move nearer to age, the 
ardent emotions which now influence you, may be chilled 
iuto indifference. Standing on the border line whence I 
find my affections turning to the past, and my fears resting 
over the future, I have scarcely the right to appeal to the 
young men in the tones of brotherhood, nor have I author- 
ity to call on them in virtue of any experience which age 
might bestow. But I may, and do entreat you, by the 
blood which courses in your veins, by the love you bear 
your native land, by your gratitude for the past and your 
hopes of the future, to emulate the great example of 
Webster, who, despite his fullness of years, despite the 
selfish influences constantly operating around him, during a 
long and laborious life of service, often so ill requited, re- 

183 



*»« 



I 1 









^MM£i&l^ 



tained to his last moment a sympathy with his race, and 
an interest in all that might improve and dignify it, not 
less ardent than that which glowed within him in the 
pride of his manhood. And when you trace and follow 
him along the path which his genius and merit illumined, 
if any of his sentiments, differing from your own, should, 
though for an instant, qualify your regard for his character 
or services, restore him at once to your affection and rev- 
erence, by the just recollection that in every sentiment he 
felt, every thought he formed, every word he uttered, and 
every act he performed, he was at all times, and in all 
places, in heart, soul, speech, and action, an American. 

The world has furnished heroes whose ambition has jour- 
neyed through blood and devastation to win the fame of 
history. Nations have been conquered, empires over- 
thrown, races subdued and exterminated, to satisfy the 
craving of some splendid egotist, yearning for power and 
glory. The world has been too frequently captivated by 
the record of such careers. It is becoming more just. The 
merit of faithful service is acquiring great esteem amongst 
men. They honor example, such as was afforded, when in 
his age, Webster, so worthy of repose after long travail 
for the people, felt himself called to use his giant energies 
in opposing insiduous schemes, by which he believed, in all 
the sincerity of his soul, that the Union was jeoparded. 
The Union was in danger ! The constitution was threat- 
ened ! He went forth to battle for it— Nestor-like, with 
the heart of Coeur de Lion. He sought, found and con- 
quered the enemy. He encountered the reviling of foes, 
sometimes the remonstrance of friends. He obeyed the 
dictates of his conscience, he adhered to the faith, he clung 
to the purpose of his life. New vigor animated his frame; 

1S4 






new eloquence descended upon his lips. This was des- 
tined to be the crowning glory of his life, and he earned it 
nobly. Young men of America! do you fully realize the in- 
calculable importance of preserving the constitution and the 
Union, for which the great champion of both toiled with such 
earnestness ? By what name would you be known on earth ? 
By what name will you describe to posterity the immor- 
tal men who wrested the colonies of this continent from 
British oppression ? There are here to-night natives of 
many, perhaps of all our States, and doubtless they feel 
children's love for the places in which they were born. 
Here are, also, exiles from many a father-land beyond the 
deep. They have left forever the scenes of their youth— 
the graves where their ancestors moulder. They came 
here to mingle and be happy with our people. Behold 
our territory extending to the Pacific. See a new and 
golden State making rapid strides to greatness in a region 
which, but a few years since, was considered scarcely 
within the pale of civilization. A restless ambition for 
more territory excites attention, if not fear, at home and 
abroad. All the land we acquire, all the myriads of be- 
ings spread over it, the native born on the soil, the mil- 
lions thronging thither from the Old World— all these 
must be included under one government, and made to feel 
the same interest in its welfare. And how can this be ef- 
fected ? Not by segregating classes according to locality 
of birth, but by the combination of all agencies, moral, so- 
cial, and political, to make all who live under our consti- 
tution feel that our country, in its whole extent, and in 
every inch of its soil, is America, and that those who re- 
side upon it, with the intention to yield our government 
allegiance, are to be known in all that concerns their civil 

185 





interests and obligations, as Americans, and Americans 
only. This policy, and this alone, can secure us a national 
character. As Americans, we have already earned dis- 
tinction amongst nations. No prophecy can prescribe 
limits too remote for the extension of our greatness. The 
world cannot but wonder at our progress. It has startled, 
and must continue to startle, the old empires. From no 
spirit of aggression, for no object of mere interest, against 
no right, in furtherance of no wrong, should we seek to 
enlarge our dominions, or glorify our name. But, yielding 
no jot or tittle of our right as a people, submitting neither 
to indignity nor dictation from foreign powers, peaceably 
pursuing the objects of our government, and never abstain- 
ing, through fear of all that foreign powers can do, from 
exercising a generous sympathy for all mankind whenever 
and wherever humanity requires, we will go on with a de- 
sign to make our name, as Americans, equal at least in 
honor and greatness to any which has designated a race or 
a people from the beginning of time. And when any thing- 
occurs, which touching the pulse of the whole people, finds 
the nation's heart vibrating from a sense of national plea- 
sure, or any other national feeling — when we feel how 
blessed is the fraternal association of American States, and 
what great abilities have been employed to rivet the bands 
binding them in close embrace — in our devout thanks to 
those who, under Providence, have contributed to perpet- 
uate our Union for us and our posterity — no man can claim, 
and no man shall receive, in history, a prouder place than 
Webster ! 

He is gone ! His voice can never more be heard on 
earth. He could not bequeath us the intellect employed 
so long and so faithfully for our advantage, but he has given 

1S6 





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to us the legacy of that intellect's productions. Many a 
future generation will linger over them with delight. May 
the hour never arrive when they will cease to be regarded, 
not alone as models of style for American youth, but as 
works' of wisdom from which Americans and American 
citizens shall obtain the rules to guide them and to en- 
courage them in the performance of their duty to the Re- 
public . 

Webster is gone ! His mission ended as it began, in 
honor. He died as became a man, sensible of his respon- 
sibilities to his Maker. He appreciated the truths ex- 
pressed when he spoke in honor of a great professional 
brother whose loss he deplored :—-" Religion is a necessary 
and indispensable element in any great human character. 
There is no living without it. Religion is the tie that 
connects man with his Maker, and holds him to his throne. 
If that tie be all sundered, all broken, he floats away, a 
worthless atom in the universe— its proper attractions all 
gone, its destiny thwarted, and its whole future, nothing 
but darkness, desolation and death." He went out upon 
the dread path of the next life, hoping to be supported by 
the staff and crutch his Maker could afford. He died with 
the simplicity which marked his character and life. He 
said, on a memorable occasion : ' ; One may live as a con- 
queror, a king, or a magistrate, but he must die as a man. 
The bed of death brings every human being to his pure in- 
dividuality." 

Reduced to that singleness of existence, Webster calmly 
awaited, and resignedly met the common doom of our race. 
Family and friends stood around his bed, and consoled his 
latest moments. And when it was made known that the 
mind, of which our country boasted, as the most brilliant 

1S7 









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jewel in her coronet, had lost its lustre forever, the whole 
land throbbed with anguish. 

Webster was a man of whom any nation would have 
been proud at any era in history. He could not have ex- 
isted without occupying the highest position among men. 
Europe would have loaded him with titles and rewards. 
Greece, which esteemed as a highest honor, the funeral 
obsequies and a funeral oration, would have exhausted its 
purest taste, and employed its greatest orator to commem- 
orate his great name. But the heart of such a man could 
not have been so touched by all else as by the grateful ap- 
preciation of his services emanating from his countrymen. 
Having referred on one occasion to his ancestors, and 
claimed for them only the merit of faithful devotion to 
their native land, I remember well that the tear stole to 
his eye, and his voice trembled with deep emotion, as he 
exclaimed — " This is heraldry enough for me." 

He is gone ! There was a noble heart in this intellectual 
giant. Relieved from the cares of station and demands of 
duty, he was a very social man. It was pleasant to con- 
verse with him — to see his brow relax, and a sweet smile 
light up his sombre face. He had a quiet, genial, and ef- 
fective humor, too. He was a modest man. With all his 
greatness he met his fellows with respect. No human be- 
ing could be more willing to receive and act upon a good 
suggestion, from whomsoever it might emanate. Like 
other truly great men, he avoided the error which makes 
lesser beings cease to be courteous when they attain dis- 
tinction. He could not be what he was without faults, 
and the faults of great men seem to take their own propor- 
tions, and grow immense in the sight of men whose faults, 
though greater, seem small, because never fully exposed 

188 




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or but remotely exhibited to the public eye. A high re- 
gard for public and private morality pervades all his 
works. He was, in the best sense of the term, conser- 
vative, and this quality sometimes led him to act with 
more caution and less boldness than the occasion justified. 
He dreaded war above all evils except dishonor. In the 
negotiation of questions endangering our peaceful rela- 
tions with other governments, he exhibited the same large 
capacity which characterized all his public acts. He was 
not inferior as a diplomatist to any with whom he came 
in contact. The clearness, precision, and elegance which 
mark his correspondence with Lord Ashburton, cannot be 
too much admired. 

Webster, Calhoun, Clay, Adams— all are departed ! 
Other of our leading statesmen must, in the course of 
events, soon follow. The brightest lights of our galaxy 
are going out. The stars, by observation of which the 
State was guided, are disappearing, and it becomes us to 
watch the noble vessel with the more care. For their 
successors, where shall we look ? Answer, ye aged of the 
land ! Look around young men, and seek the pure and 
able to fill the vacant places in our councils. Our present 
is now all prosperity. The future encourages our fondest 
hopes. No -speck of danger spots the clear horizon into 
which we peer. But the storm and the danger come sud- 
denly, and often when we are unprepared. Let us be ever 
on the watch to avert its injury. Peril will threaten our 
constitution. Unholy assaults may endanger our Union, 
but I have no fear of the result. I am incapable of con- 
templating a period, when our banner, seen at all, will not 
be known and honored as the American flag — the flag of a 
united, powerful and happy nation, and now and forever, 

189 



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when the fanatic or the felon hand would humble that flag, 
or sully in the least its brilliant folds, and a faithful arm 
is interposed to check the desecration, may the bad hope 
which inspires the traitor be dismayed, and the noble pur- 
pose of the patriot strengthened by the spirit of Webster, 
which, ever at the point where danger assails his country, 
shall utter, to baffle treason and cheer fidelity, his own 
solemn words, 

"I Still Hibe." 

Bishop Wainwright then pronounced the 

gnuifict tan. 

The peace of God, which passeth all understanding, 
keep your hearts and minds in the knowledge and love of 
God, and of His Son, Jesus Christ, our Lord, and the 
blessing of God Almighty, the Father, the Son, and the 
Holy Ghost, be among you and remain with you all. Amen. 



190 


















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OBITUARY ADDRESSES 



ON THE 



(rtrnrsifln 0f tfa 9tM 



OF THE 



HON. DANIEL WEBSTER, 

DELIVERED IX THE 

SENATE AND HOUSE OF REPRESENTATIVES 

©f tfcr SSnitrlJ States, 
FOURTEENTH AND FIFTEENTH DECEMBER, 1852. 



sffli 




m 



SENATE OF THE UNITED STATES. 



After various topics of the Message of the President 
had been referred to the appropriate Conmrittees, Mr. 
Davis rose, and addressed the Senate, as follows : 

Mr. President : — I rise to bring to the notice of the 
Senate, an event which has touched the sensibilities and 
awakened sympathies in all parts of the country — an 
event which has appropriately found a place in the mes- 
sage of the President, and ought not to be passed in 
silence by the Senate. Sir, we have, within a short 
space, mourned the death of a succession of men illus- 
trious by their services, their talents, and worth. Not 
only have seats in this Chamber, in the other House, and 
upon the bench of the Court been vacated, but death has 
entered the executive mansion and claimed that beloved 
patriot who filled the Chair of State. 

The portals of the tomb had scarcely closed upon the 
remains of a great and gifted member of this House, 
before they are again opened to receive another marked 
man of our day — one who stood out with a singular 
prominence before his countrymen, challenging, by his 
extraordinary intellectual power, the admiration of his 
fellow-men. 

Daniel Webster, (a name familiar in the remotest 
cabin upon the frontier) after mixing actively with the 
councils of his country for forty years, and having 
reached the limits of life assigned to mortals, has 

13 193 






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descended to the mansions of the dead, and the damp 
earth now rests upon his manly form. 

That magic voice which was wont to fill this place 
with admiring listeners, is hushed in eternal silence. 
The multitude will no longer bend in breathless atten- 
tion from the galleries to catch his words, and to watch 
the speaking eloquence of his countenance, animated by 
the fervor of his mind; nor will the Senate again be 
instructed by the outpourings of his profound intellect, 
matured by long experience, and enriched by copious 
streams from the fountains of knowledge. The thread of 
life is cut; the immortal is separated from the mortal; 
and the products of a great and cultivated mind are all 
that remain to us of the jurist and legislator. 

Few men have attracted so large a share of public 
attention, or maintained, for so long a period, an equal 
degree of mental distinction. In this and the other 
House there were rivals for fame, and he grappled in 
debate with the master minds of the day, and achieved 
in such manly conflict the imperishable renown connected 
with his name. 

Upon most of the questions which have been agitated 
in Congress during his period of service, his voice was 
heard. Few orators have equaled him in a masterly 
power of condensation, or in that clear logical arrange- 
ment of proofs and arguments which secures the attention 
of the hearer, and holds it with unabated interest. 

These speeches have been preserved, and many of them 
will be read as forensic models, and will command ad- 
miration for their great display of intellectual power and 
extensive research. This is not a suitable occasion to 
discuss the merits of political productions, or to compare 

194 



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them with the effusions of great contemporaneous minds, 
or to speak of the principles advocated. All this belongs 
to the future, and history will assign each great name the 
measure of its enduring fame. 

Mr. Webster was conspicuous, not only among the 
most illustrious men in the halls of legislation, but his 
fame shone with undiminished lustre in the judicial tri- 
bunals as an advocate, where he participated in many of 
the most important discussions. On the bench were 
Marshall, Story, and their brethren— men of patient re- 
search and comprehensive scope of intellect— who have 
left behind them, in our judicial annals, proofs of great- 
ness which will secure profound veneration and respect 
for their names. At the bar stood Pinckney, Wirt, 
Emmett, and many others who adorned and gave exalted 
character to the profession. Amid these luminaries of 
the bar he discussed many of the great questions raised in 
giving construction to organic law; and no one shone 
with more intense brightness, or brought into the conflict 
of mind more learning, higher proofs of severe mental 
discipline, or more copious illustration. 

Among such men, and in such honorable combat, the 
foundations of that critical knowledge of constitutional 
law, which afterward became a prominent feature of his 
character, and entered largely into his opinions as a 
legislator, were laid. 

The arguments made at this forum displayed a careful 
research into the history of the formation of the Federal 
Union, and an acute analysis of the fundamental pro- 
visions of the Constitution. 

Probably no man has penetrated deeper into the prin- 
ciples, or taken a>ore~comprehensive and complete view 

195 



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of the Union of the States, than that great man, Chief 
Justice Marshall. No question was so subtle as to elude 
his grasp, or so complex as to defy his penetration. Even 
the great and the learned esteemed it no condescension to 
listen to the teachings of his voice; and no one profited 
more by his wisdom, or more venerated his character, 
than Mr. Webster. 

To stand among such men with marked distinction, as 
did Mr. Webster, is an association which might satisfy 
any ambition, whatever might be its aspirations. But 
there, among those illustrious men, who have finished 
their labors and gone to their final homes, he made his 
mark strong and deep, which will be seen and traced by 
posterity. 

But I need not dwell on that which is familiar to all 
readers who feel an interest in such topics; nor need I 
notice the details of his private life — since hundreds of 
pens have been employed in revealing all the facts, and in 
describing, in the most vivid manner, all the scenes which 
have been deemed attractive; nor need I reiterate the 
fervent language of eulogy which has been poured out in 
all quarters from the press, the pulpit, the bar, legislative 
bodies, and public assemblies — since his own productions 
constitute his best eulogy. 

I could not, if I were to attempt it, add any thing to 
the strength or beauty of the manifold evidences which 
have been exhibited of the length, the breadth, and height 
of his fame; nor is there any occasion for such proofs in 
the Senate — the place where his face was familiar, where 
many of his greatest efforts were made, and where his 
intellectual powers were appreciated. Here he was seen 



196 



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and heard, and nowhere else will his claim to great dis- 
tinction be more cheerfully admitted. 

But the places which have known him will know him 
no more ! His form will never rise here again ; his voice 
will not be heard, nor his expressive countenance seem. 
He is dead. In his last moments he was surrounded by his 
family and friends at his own home ; and, while consoled 
by their presence, his spirit took its flight to other re- 
gions. All that remained has been committed to its kin- 
dred earth. 

Divine Providence gives us illustrious men, but they, like 
others, when their mission is ended, yield to the inexorable 
law of our being. He who gives also takes away, but 
never forsakes his faithful children. 

The places of those possessing uncommon gifts are va- 
cated; the sod rests upon the once manly form, now as cold 
and lifeless as itself, and the living are filled with gloom 
and desolation. But the world rolls on ; nature loses 
none of its charms ; the sun rises with undiminished splen- 
dor; the grass loses none of its freshness, nor do the 
flowers cease to fill the air with fragrance. Nature, un- 
touched by human woe, proclaims the immutable law of 
Providence, that decay follows growth, and that He who 
takes away never fails to give. 

Sir, I propose the following resolutions, believing that 
they will meet the cordial approbation of the Senate : 

Resolved, That the Senate has received with profound 
sensibility the annunciation from the President, of the 
death of the late Secretary of State, Daniel Webster, 
who was long a highly distinguished member of this body. 

Resolved, That the Senate will manifest its respect for 
the memory of the deceased, and its sympathy with his be 

197 




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reaved family, by wearing the usual badge of mourning for 
thirty days. 

Resolved, That these proceedings be communicated to the 
House of Representatives. 

Mr. Butler. 

Mr. President : — This is an occasion full of interesting 
but melancholy associations, and one that especially ap- 
peals to my feelings and sense of justice— I might almost 
say historical justice— as a representative of South Caro- 
lina. Who, that were present, can ever forget the mourn- 
ful and imposing occasion, when Daniel Webster, whose 
eloquence and ability had given distinction to the greatest 
deliberative assembly and the most august tribunal of jus- 
tice in this great confederacy ; and when Henry Clay, 
a name associated with all that is daring in action and 
splendid in eloquence — rose as witnesses before the tribu- 
nal of history, and gave their testimony as to the charac- 
ter and services of their illustrious compeer, John Cald- 
well Calhoun ? They embalmed in historical immortal- 
ity their rival, associate and comrade. 

I would that I could borrow from the spirit of my great 
countryman something of its justice and magnanimity, that 
I might make some requital for the distinguished tributes 
paid to his memory by his illustrious compeers. Such an 
occasion as the one I have referred to, is without parallel 
in the history of this Senate; and, sir, I fear that there is 
no future for such another one. Calhoun, Clay and 
Webster— like Pitt, Pox and Burke— have made a pic- 
ture on our history that will be looked upon as its culmi- 
nating splendor. They were luminaries that in many 
points of view, essentially differed from each other, as one 

198 





star differeth from another; but they were all stars 
first magnitude. Distance cannot destroy, nor can 
diminish the simple splendor of their light for the 
dance and instruction of an admiring posterity. 

Rivals they were on a great and eventful theatre of po- 
litical life; but death has given them a common fame. 

Eadem arena, 
Communis virtus, atque perennis decus, 
Victrix causa parem meritis et victa favorem 
Vindicat, aeternum vivere fama dedit. 

Their contest in life was for the awards of public opin- 
ion—the great lever in modern times by which nations are 
to be moved. 

" With more than mortal powers endow' d, 
How high they soar'd above the crowd ! 
Theirs was no eommon party race, 
Jostling by dark intrigue for place: 
Like fabled godsftheir mighty war , 
Shook realms and nations in its jar !" 

Before I became a. member of the Senate, of which I 
found Mr. Webster a distinguished ornament, I had formed 
a very high estimate of his abilities-and from various 
sources of high Authority. His mind, remarkable for its 
large capacity, was enriched with rare endowments— with 
the knowledge of a statesman, the learning of a jurist, and 
the attainments of a scholar. In this chamber, with un- 
surpassed ability, Mr. Webster has discussed the greatest 
subjects that have influenced, or can influence, the destinies 
of this great confederacy. Well may I apply to him the 
striking remark which he bestowed on Mr. Calhoun : 
" We saw before us a senator of Rome, when Rome sur- 
vived." 

I have always regarded Mr. Webster as a noble model 
of a parliamentary debater. His genial temper, the cour- 






Wfei 



199 





tesy and dignity of his deportment, his profound knowl- 
edge of his subject, and his thorough preparation, not only 
o-ave him a great command over his immediate audience, 
but gave his masterly speeches an impressive influence 
upon public opinion. 

In the Supreme Court, Mr. Webster was engaged^in 
the greatest cases that were ever decided by that tribunal; 
and it is not saying too much to assert that his arguments 
formed the basis of some of the ablest judgments of that 
court. His exuberant but rectified imagination, and bril- 
liant literary attainments, imparted to his eloquence 
beauty, simplicity, and majesty, and the finish of taste and 
elaboration. He seemed to prefer the more deliberative 
style of speaking ; but, when roused and assailed, he be- 
came a formidable adversary in the war of debate, dis- 
charging from his full quiver the #rows of sarcasm and in- 
vective with telling effect. 

Mr. Webster was born in a forest^incl, in his childhood 
and youth, lived amid the scenes of rural life ; and it was 
do doubt under their inspiring influence that he imbibed 
that love of Nature which has given such a charm and 
touching pathos to some of his meditative productions. It 
always struck me that he had something of Burns's nature, 
but controlled by the discipline of a higher education. 
Lifted above the ordinary level of mankind by his genius 
and intelligence, Mr. Webster looked upon a more ex- 
tensive horizon than could be seen by those below him. 
He had too much information, from his large and varied 
intercourse with great men, and his acquaintance with the 
opinions of all ages through the medium of books, to allow 
i he spirit of bigotry to have a place in his mind. I have 
many reasons to conclude that he was not only tolerant of 

200 



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the opinions of others, but was even generous in his judg- 
ments toward them. I will conclude by saying, that New 
England, especially, and the confederacy at large, have 
cause to be proud of the fame of such a man. 

Mr. Cass. 

Mr. President : — How are the mighty fallen ! was 
the pathetic lamentation when the leaders of Israel were 
struck down in the midst of their services and of their re- 
nown. Well may we repeat that national wail, How are 
the mighty fallen ! when the impressive dispensations 
of Providence have so recently carried mourning to the 
hearts of the American people, by summoning from life to 
death three of their eminent citizens, who, for almost half 
a century, had taken part — and prominently, too — in all 
the great questions, as well of peace as of war, which agi- 
tated and divided their country. Full, indeed, they were 
of days and of honors, for 

" The hand of the reaper 

Took the ears that were hoary," 

but never brighter in intellect, purer in patriotism, nor 
more powerful in influence, than when the grave closed 
upon their labors, leaving their memory and their career 
at once an incentive and an example for their countrymen 
in that long course of trial — but I trust of freedom and 
prosperity, also — which is open before us. Often divided 
in life, but only by honest convictions of duty, followed in 
a spirit of generous emulation, and not of personal oppo- 
sition, they are now united in death, and we may appro- 
priately adopt, upon this striking occasion, the beautiful 
language addressed to the people of England by one of 
her most gifted sons, when they were called to mourn, as 




201 



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we are called now. a bereavement which spread sorrow — 
dismay almost — through the nation, and under circum- 
stances of difficulty and of danger far greater than any we 
can now reasonably anticipate in the progress of our his- 
tory : 

" Seek not for those a separate doom, 
Whom fate made brothers in the tomb ; 
But search the land of living men : 
Where shall we find their like again 1" 

And to-day, in the consideration of the message of the 
Chief Magistrate, it becomes us to respond to his annunci- 
ation — commending itself, as it does, to the universal sen- 
timent of the country — of the death of the last of these la- 
mented statesmen, as a national misfortune. This mark 
of respect and regret was due alike to the memory of the 
dead and to the feelings of the living. And I have listen- 
ed with deep emotion to the eloquent testimonials to the 
mental power, and worth, and services of the departed pa- 
triot, which to-day have been heard in this high place, and 
will be heard to-morrow, and commended, too, by the 
American people. The voice of party is hushed in the 
presence of such a national calamity, and the grave closes 
upon the asperity of political contests when it closes upon 
those who have taken part in them. And well may we, 
who have so often witnessed his labors and his triumphs — 

well may we, here, upon this theatre of his services and 
his renown, recalling the efforts of his mighty understand- 
ing, and the admiration which always followed its exer- 
tion — well may we come with our tribute of acknowledg- 
ment to his high and diversified powers, and to the influ- 
ence he exercised upon his auditory, and, in fact, upon his 

country. He was, indeed, one of those remarkable men 

202 




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who stand prominently forward upon the canvas of his- 
tory, impressing their characteristics upon the age in which 
they live, and almost making it their own by the force of 
their genius and by the splendor of their fame. The time 
which elapsed between the middle of the eighteenth cen- 
tury and our own day, was prolific of great events and of 
distinguished men, who guided or were guided by them, 
far beyond any other equal period in the history of human 
society. But, in my opinion, even this favored epoch has 
produced no man possessing a more massive and gigantic 
intellect, or who exhibited more profound powers of inves- 
tigation in the great department of political science to 
which he devoted himself, in all its various ramifications, 
than Daniel Webster. 

The structure of his mind seemed peculiarly adapted to 
the work he was called upon to do, and he did it as no 
other man of his country— of his age, indeed— could have 
done it. And his name and his fame are indissolubly con- 
nected with some of the most difficult and important ques- 
tions which our peculiar institutions have called into dis- 
cussion. It was my good fortune to hear him upon one of 
the most memorable of these occasions, when, in this very 
hall, filled to overflowing with an audience whose rapt at- 
tention indicated his power and their expectations, he en- 
tered into an analysis of the Constitution, and of the great 
principles of our political organization, with a vigor of ar- 
gument, a force of illustration, and a felicity of diction, 
which have rendered this effort of his mind one of the 
proudest monuments of American genius, and one of the 
noblest expositions which the operations of our govern- 
ment have called forth. I speak of its general effect, 
without concurring in all the views he presented, though 

203 



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the points of difference neither impair my estimate of the 
speaker, nor of the power he displayed in this elaborate 
debate. 

The judgment of his contemporaries upon the character 
of his eloquence, will be confirmed by the future historian. 
He grasped the questions involved in the subject before 
him, with a rare union of force and discrimination, and he 
presented them in an order of arrangement, marked at 
once with great perspicuity and with logical acuteness, so 
that, when he arrived at his conclusion, he seemed to reach 
it by a process of established propositions, interwoven 
with the hand of a master; and topics, barren of attrac- 
tion, from their nature, were rendered interesting by illus- 
trations and allusions, drawn from a vast storehouse of 
knowledge, and applied with a chastened taste, formed 
upon the best models of ancient and of modern learning; 
and to these eminent qualifications was added an uninter- 
rupted flow of rich and often racy old-fashioned English, 
worthy of the earlier masters of the language, whom he 
studied and admired. 

As a statesman and politician his power was felt and ac- 
knowledged through the republic, and all bore willing tes- 
timony to his enlarged views, and to his ardent patriotism. 
And he acquired a European reputation by the state pa- 
pers he prepared upon various questions of our foreign 
policy; and one of these — his refutation and exposure of 
an absurd and arrogant pretension of Austria — is distin- 
guished by lofty and generous sentiments, becoming the 
age in which he lived, and the great people in whose name 
he spoke, and is stamped with a vigor and research not less 
honorable in the exhibition than conclusive in the applica- 
tion ; and it will ever take rank in the history of diplo- 

204 





matic intercourse among the richest contributions to the 
commentaries upon the public law of the world. And in 
internal as in external troubles, he was true, and tried, 
and faithful : and in the latest, may it be the last, as it 
was the most perilous, crisis of our country, rejecting all 
sectional considerations, and exposing himself to sectional 
denunciation, he stood up boldly, proudly indeed, and 
with consummate ability, for the constitutional rights of 
another portion of the Union, fiercely assailed by a spirit 
of aggression, as incompatible with our mutual obligations 
as with the duration of the confederation itself. In that 
dark and doubtful hour, his voice was heard above the 
storm, recalling his countrymen to a sense of their dan- 
gers and their duties, and tempering the lessons of reproof 
with the experience of age and the dictates of patriotism. 
He who heard his memorable appeal to the public rea- 
son and conscience, made in this crowded chamber, with 
all eyes fixed upon the speaker, and almost all hearts 
swayed by his words of wisdom and of power, will sedu- 
lously ^uard its recollections as one of those precious inci- 
dents which, while they constitute the poetry of history, 
exert a permanent and decisive influence upon the destiny 
of nations. 

And our deceased colleague added the kindlier affec- 
tions of the heart to the lofty endowments of the mind; 
and I recall, with almost painful sensibility, the associa- 
tions of our boyhood, when we were school-fellows to- 
gether, with all the troubles and the pleasures which be- 
long to that relation of life, in its narrow world of prepa- 
ration. He rendered himself dear by his disposition and 
deportment, and exhibited some of those peculiar charac- 
teristic features, which, later in life, made him the orna- 

205 






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ment of the social circle ; and, when study and knowledge 
of the world had ripened his faculties, endowed him with 
powers of conversation I have not found surpassed in my 
intercourse with society, at home or abroad. His conduct 
and bearing at that early period, have left an enduring 
impression upon my memory of mental traits, which his 
subsequent course in life developed and confirmed. And 
the commanding position and ascendency of the man were 
foreshadowed by the standing and influence of the boy 
among the comrades who surrounded him. Fifty-five years 
ago we parted — he to prepare for his splendid career in 
the good old land of our ancestors, and I to encounter the 
rough toils and trials of life in the great forest of the West. 
But, ere long, the report of his words and his deeds pene- 
trated those recesses, where human industry was painfully, 
but successfully, contending with the obstacles of Nature, 
and I found that my early companion was assuming a po- 
sition which confirmed my previous anticipations, and 
which could only be attained by the rare faculties with 
which he was gifted. Since then he has gone on irradiat- 
ing his path with the splendor of his exertions, till the 
whole hemisphere was bright with his glory, and never 
brighter than when he went down in the West, without a 
cloud to obscure his lustre, calm, clear, and glorious. For- 
tunate in life he was not less fortunate in death, for he 
died with his fame undiminished, his faculties unbroken, 
and his usefulness unimpaired; surrounded by weeping 
friends, and regarded with anxious solicitude by a grateful 
country, to whom the messenger that mocks at time and 
space told, from hour to hour, the progress of his disorder, 
and the approach of his fate. And beyond all this, he 
died in the faith of a Christian, humble, but hopeful, add- 




206 




ing another to the roll of eminent men who have searched 
the Gospel of Jesus, and have found it the word and will 
of God, given to direct us while here, and to sustain us in 
that hour of trial, when the things of this world are pass- 
ing away, and the dark valley of the shadow of death is 
opening before us. 

How are the mighty fallen! we may yet exclaim, 
when reft of our greatest and wisest; but, they fall to rise 
again from death to life, when such quickening faith in 
the mercy of God and in the sacrifice of the Redeemer 
comes to shed upon them its happy influence, on this side 
of the grave and beyond it. 



it 



Mr. Seward. 

When, in passing through Savoy, I reached the eminence 
where the traveler is promised his first distinct view 
of Mont Blanc, I asked, "Where is the mountain?" 
" There," said the guide, pointing to the rainy sky which 
stretched out before me. It is even so when we approach 
and attempt to scan accurately a great character. Clouds 
gather upon it, and seem to take it up out of our sight. 

Daniel Webster was a man of warm and earnest af- 
fections in all the domestic and social relations. Purely 
incidental and natural allusions in his conversations, let- 
ters and speeches, have made us familiar with the very 
pathways about his early mountain home ; with his mother, 
graceful, intellectual, fond and pious ; with his father, as- 
siduous, patriotic and religious, changing his pursuits, as 
duty in revolutionary times demanded, from the farm to 
the camp, and from the camp to the provincial legislature 
and the constituent assembly. It seems as if we could 
recognize the very form and features of the most constant 

207 





and generous of brothers. Nor are we strangers at Marsh- 
field. We are guests hospitably admitted, and then left 
to wander at our ease under the evergreens on the lawn, 
over the grassy fields, through the dark, native forest, and 
along the resounding sea-shore. We know, almost as well 
as we know our own, the children reared there, and fond- 
ly loved, and therefore, perhaps, early lost ; the servants 
bought from bondage, and held by the stronger chains of 
gratitude ; the careful steward, always active, yet never 
hurried ; the reverent neighbor, always welcome, yet never 
obtrusive ; and the ancient fisherman, whose little fleet is 
ever ready for the sports of the sea ; and we meet on every 
side the watchful and devoted friends whom no frequency 
of disappointment can discourage, and whom even the death 
of their great patron cannot all at once disengage from 
efforts which know no balancing of probabilities nor reck- 
oning of cost to secure his elevation to the first honors of 
the republic. 

Who that was even confessedly provincial was ever so 
identified with any thing local as Daniel Webster was 
with the spindles of Lowell, and the quarries of Quincy ; 
with Faneuil Hall, Bunker Hill, Forefathers' Day, Ply- 
mouth Rock, and whatever else belonged to Massachu- 
setts ? And yet, who that was most truly national has 
ever so sublimely celebrated, or so touchingly commended 
to our reverent affection our broad and ever-broadening 
continental home ; its endless rivers, majestic mountains, 
and capacious lakes ; its inimitable and indescribable con- 
stitution ; its cherished and growing capital ; its aptly 
conceived and expressive flag, and its triumphs by land, 
and sea ; and its immortal founders, heroes and martyrs ! 
How manifest it was, too, that, unlike those who are impa- 

20S 



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: ii 

m 



tient of slow but sure progress, he loved his country, not 
for something greater or higher than he desired or hoped 
she might be, but just for what she was, and as she was al- 
ready, regardless of future change. 

No, sir ; believe me, they err widely who say that 
Daniel Webster was cold and passionless. It is true 
that he had little enthusiasm ; but he was, nevertheless, 
earnest and sincere, as well as calm ; and, therefore, he 
was both discriminating and comprehensive in his affec- 
tions. We recognize his likeness in the portrait drawn by 
a Roman pencil : 

5i who with nice discernment knows 




What to his country and his friends he owes; 
How various Nature warms the human breast. 
To love the parent, brother, friend, or guest. 
What the great offices of judges are, 
Of senators, of generals sent to war." 

Daniel Webster was cheerful, and on becoming occa- 
sions joyous and even mirthful ; but he was habitually en- 
gaged in profound studies on great affairs. He was, 
moreover, constitutionally fearful of the dangers of popu- 
lar passion and prejudice ; and so, in public walk, conver- 
sation and debate, he was grave and serious, even to 
solemnity ; yet he never desponded in the darkest hours 
of personal or political trial ; and melancholy never, 
in health nor even in sickness, spread a pall over his 
spirits. 

It must have been very early that he acquired that just 
estimate of his own powers which was the basis of a self- 
reliance which all the world saw and approved, and which, 
while it betrayed no feature of vanity, none but a super- 
ficial observer could have mistaken for pride or arrogance. 

14 209 




"y-'wyii^Tii'T l - L * LM: ' t: flfHaFJ 







Daniel Webster was no sophist. With a talent for 
didactic instruction which might have excused dogmatism, 
he never lectured on the questions of morals that are agi- 
tated in the schools. But he seemed, nevertheless, 
to have acquired a philosophy of his own, and to have 
made it the rule and guide of his life. That philosophy 
consisted in improving his powers and his tastes, so that 
he might appreciate whatever was good and beautiful in 
nature and art, and attain to whatever was excellent in 
conduct. He had accurate perceptions of the qualities and 
relations of things. He overvalued nothing that was com- 
mon,, and undervalued nothing that was useful, or even 
ornamental. His lands, his cattle, and equipage, his 
dwelling, library and apparel, his letters, arguments and 
orations — every thing that he had, every thing that he 
made, and every thing that he did — was, as far as possible 
fit, complete, perfect. He thought decorous forms neces- 
sary for preserving whatever was substantial or valuable 
in politics and morals, and even in religion. In his re- 
gard, order was the first law, and peace the chief blessing 
of earth, as they are of heaven. Therefore, while he de- 
sired justice and loved liberty, he reverenced law as the 
first divinity of states and of society. 

Daniel Webster was, indeed, ambitious ; but his ambi- 
tion was generally subordinate to conventional forms, and 
always to the Constitution. He aspired to place and 
preferment, but not for the mere exercise of political power, 
and still less for pleasurable indulgences ; and only for oc- 
casions to save or serve his country, and for the fame which 
such noble actions might bring. Who will censure such 
ambition ? Who had greater genius subjected to severer 
discipline ? What other motives than those of ambition 

210 




&9 









^pg 



could have brought that genius into activity under that 
discipline, and sustained that activity so equally under, 
ever-changing circumstances so long ? His ambition never 
fell off into presumption. He was, on the contrary, con- 
tent with performing all practical duties, even in common 
affairs, in the best possible manner ; and he never chafed 
under petty restraints from those above, nor malicious an- 
noyances from those around him. If ever any man had 
intellectual superiority which could have excused a want 
of deference due to human authority, or skepticism con- 
cerning that which was divine, he was such a one. Yet 
he was, nevertheless, unassuming and courteous, here and 
elsewhere, in the public councils ; and there was, I think, 
never a time in his life when he was not an unquestioning 
believer in that religion which offers to the meek the in- 
heritance of the heavenly kingdom. 

Daniel Webster's mind was not subtle, but it was clear. 
It was surpassingly logical in the exercise of induction, 
and equally vigorous and energetic in all its movements ; 
and yet he possessed an imagination so strong that if it 
had been combined with even a moderated enthusiasm of 
temper, would have overturned the excellent balance of 
his powers. 

The civilian rises in this, as in other republics, by the 
practice of eloquence ; and so Daniel Webster became 
an orator — the first of orators. 

Whatever else concerning him has been controverted by 
anybody, the fifty thousand lawyers of the United States, 
interested to deny his pretensions, conceded to him an un- 
approachable supremacy at the bar. How did he win 
that high place ? Where others studied laboriously, he 
meditated intensely. Where others appealed to the pre- 

211 






~ ! 1 




judices and passions of courts and juries, lie addressed only 
their understandings. Where others lost themselves 
among the streams, he ascended to the fountain. While 
they sought the rules of law among conflicting prece- 
dents, he found them in the eternal principles of reason 
and justice. 

But it is conceding too much to the legal profession to 
call Daniel Webster a lawyer. Lawyers speak for 
clients and their interests — he seemed always to be speak- 
ing for his country and for truth. So he rose impercepti- 
bly above his profession ; and while yet in the Forum, he 
stood before the world a Publicist. In this felicity, he re- 
sembled, while he surpassed Erskine, who taught the courts 
at Westminster the law of moral responsibility ; and he 
approached Hamilton, who educated the courts at Wash- 
ington in the Constitution of the country and the philoso- 
phy of government. 

An undistinguishable line divides this high province of 
the Forum from the Senate, to which his philosophy and 
eloquence were perfectly adapted. Here, in times of 
stormy agitation and bewildering excitement, when as yet 
the Union of these States seemed not to have been ce- 
mented and consolidated, and its dissolution seemed to 
hano:, if not on the immediate result of the debate, at least 
upon the popular passion that that result must generate, 
Daniel Webster put forth his mightiest efforts — confess- 
edly the greatest ever put forth here or on this continent. 
Those efforts produced marked effect on the Senate ; 
they soothed the public mind, and became enduring les- 
sons of instruction to our countrymen on the science of 
constitutional law, and the relative powers and responsi- 








bilities of the government, and the rights and duties of the 
States and of citizens. 

Tried by ancient definitions, Daniel Webster whs not an 
orator. He studied no art and practised no action. Nor did 
he form himself by any admitted model. He had neither 
the directness and vehemence of Demosthenes, nor the 
fullness nor flow of Cicero, nor the intenseness of Milton » 
nor the magnificence of Burke. It was happy for him that 
he had not. The temper and tastes of his age and coun- 
try required eloquence different from all these, and they 
found it in the pure logic and the vigorous yet massive 
rhetoric which constituted the style of Daniel Webster. 

Daniel Webster, although a statesman, did not aim to 
be either a popular or a parliamentary leader. He left 
common affairs and questions to others, and reserved him- 
self for those great and infrequent occasions which seemed 
to involve the prosperity or the continuance of the re- 
public. On these occasions he rose above partisan influ- 
ences and alliances, and gave his counsels earnestly, and 
with impassioned solemnity, and always with an unaf- 
fected reliance upon the intelligence and virtue o. h.s 
countrymen. 

The first revolutionary assembly that convened in Bos- 
ton, promulgated the principles of the revolution of 1688— 
"Resistance to unjust laws is obedience to God;" and it 
became the watchword throughout the colonies. Under 
that motto the colonies dismembered the British Empire, 
and erected the American Republic. At an early day, it 
seemed to Daniel Webster that the habitual cherishing 
of that principle, after its great work had been consum- 
mated, threatened to subvert, in its turn, the free and 
beneficent Constitution, which afforded the highest attain- 

213 





able security against the passage of unjust laws. He ad- 
dressed himself, therefore, assiduously, and almost alone, 
to what seemed to him the duty of calling the American 
people back from revolutionary theories to the formation 
of habits of peace, order and submission to authority. He 
inculcated the duty of submission by States and citizens 
to all laws passed within the province of constitutional 
authority, and of absolute reliance on constitutional reme- 
dies for the correction of all errors and the redress of all 
injustice. This was the political gospel of Daniel Web- 
ster. He preached it in season and out of season, boldly, 
constantly, with the zeal of an apostle, and with the devo- 
tion, if there were need, of a martyr. It was full of sav- 
ina: influences while he lived, and those influences will last 
so long as the Constitution and the Union shall endure. 

1 do not dwell on Daniel Webster's exercise of 
administrative functions. It was marked by the same 
ability that distinguished all his achievements in other 
fields of duty. It was at the same time eminently conser- 
vative of peace, and of the great principles of constitu- 
tional liberty, on which the republican institutions of his 
country were founded. But while those administrative 
services benefitted his country and increased his fame, we 
all felt, nevertheless, that his proper and highest place 
was here, where there was field and scope for his philoso- 
phy and his eloquence— here, among the equal representa- 
tives of equal States, which were at once to be held to- 
gether, and to be moved on in the establishment of a con- 
tinental power controlling all the American States, and 
balancing those of the Eastern world ; and we could not 
but exclaim, in the words of the Roman orator, when we 



214 




Mr. Stockton. 

Mr. President . — I was prevented from coming to 
Washington until this morning. After traveling all night, 
I hastened here to take my seat, wholly unapprised of the 
intention of the senator from Massachusetts to introduce 
the resolutions now before the Senate. 

It would, therefore, not become me, nor the solemnity of 
the occasion, to mingle, unprepared as I needs must be, 
my voice in the elocpiient lamentation which does honor to 
the Senate, for any other purpose than merely briefly to 
express my grief, my sorrow — my heart-felt, unaffected sor- 
row — for the death of Daniel Webster. 

Senators, I have known and loved Daniel Webster for 
thirty years. What wonder, then, I sorrow ? But now 
that I am on my feet for that purpose — and the Senate, 
who knew and loved him too, are my listeners — how am 
I to express that sorrow ? I cannot do it. It cannot be 
done. Oh ! sir, all words in moments such as these, when 
love or grief seek utterance, are vain and frigid. 

Senators, I can even now hardly realize the event — that 
Daniel Webster is dead — that he does not " still live." 

I did hope that God — who has watched over this repub- 
lic — who can do all things — " who hung the Earth on 
nothing " — who so endowed the mind of Daniel Web- 
ster — would still longer have upheld its frail tenement, 
and kept him as an example to our own men, and to the 
men of the whole world. 

Indeed, it is no figure of speech, when we say that his 
fame was " world-wide." 

215 



- 




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..^---"■^^---w- 1 



But, senators, I have risen to pronounce no eulogy on 
Mm. I am up for no such vain purpose. I come with no 
ceremony. I come to the portals of his grave, stricken 
with sadness— before the assembled Senate— in the pres- 
ence of friends and senators — (for whether they be of this 
side of the Chamber or the other side of the Chamber, I 
hope I am entitled to call every senator my friend)— to 
mingle my grief with the grief of those around me. But 
[ cherish no hope of adding one gravel-stone to the 
colossal column he has erected for himself. I would only 
place a garland of friendship on the bier of one of the 
Greatest aud best men I ever knew. 

Senators, you have known Mr. Webster in his pub- 
lic character— as a statesman of almost intuitive percep- 
tions—as a lawyer of unsurpassed learning and ability— 
as a ripe and general scholar. But it was my happiness 
to know him, also, as a man in the seclusion of private 
life ; and in the performance of sacred domestic duties, 
and of those of reciprocal friendship, I say, in this pres- 
ence, and as far as my voice may reach, that he was re- 
markable for all those attributes which constitute a gener- 
ous, magnanimous, courageous, hospitable and high-minded 
man. Sir, as far as my researches into the history of the 
world have gone, they have failed to discover his superior. 
Xot even on the records of ancient Greece or Rome, or 
of any other nation, are to be found the traces of a man of 
superior endowments to our own Webster. 

Mr. President, in private life he was a man of pure and 
noble sentiments, and eminently kind, social and agree- 
able. He was generous to a fault. Sir, one act of his, 
one speech of his, made in this Chamber— placed him be- 
fore all men of antiquity. He offered himself— yes, you 



216 








all remember, in that seat there, he rose and offered him- 
a living sacrifice for his country. And Lord Bacon has 
said, that he who offers himself as a sacrifice for his coun- 
try is a sight for angels to look upon. 

Mr. President, my feelings on this occasion will not sur- 
prise senators, who remember that these are no new senti- 
ments for me — that when he was living, I had the temerity 
to say that Daniel Webster was the greatest among men, 
and a true patriot — ay, sir ! when the expression of such 
opinions might have interfered with political aspirations 
imputed to me. Well, sir, if an empire had then been 
hanging on my words, T would not have amended or al- 
tered one sentiment. 

Having said thus much for the dead, allow me to express 
a word of thanks to the honorable senator from Michigan, 
(Mr. Cass.) Sir, I have often had occasion to feel senti- 
ments of regard, and, if he will permit me to say it, of 
affectionate regard for him, and sometimes to express 
them ; but the emotions created in my heart by his address 
this morning are not easily expressed. I thank him — in 
the fullness of my heart I thank him : and may God spare 
him to our country many years. May he long remain 
here, in our midst, as he is at this day, in all the strength 
of manhood, and in all the glory of matured wisdom. 




217 





KSj % % JL© %Kf£^'\^-f 



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■---—-..■.■*-■' * 




HOUSE OF REPRESENTATIVES. 



Wednesday, December 15, 1852. 

The journal having been read, 

A message was received from the Senate by the hands 
of Asbury Dickins, Esq., its Secretary, which, upon request 
of Mr. Davis, of Massachusetts, was read, as follows : 

Resolved, That the Senate has received with profound 
sensibility the annunciation from the President of the death 
of the late Secretary of State, Daniel Webster, who was 
long a highly distinguished member of this body. 

Resolved, That the Senate will manifest its respect for 
the memory of the deceased, and its sympathy with his 
bereaved family, by wearing the usual badge of mourning 
for thirty days. 

Resolved, That these proceedings be communicated to 
the House of Representatives. 

Mr. Davis. 
Mr. Speaker :— I rise for the purpose of proposing 
some action of this House in response to that which, we 
learn, has taken place in the Senate in reference to the 
death of Mr. Webster ; and I have little to add to the 
proposition itself, beyond a brief expression of reverence 
and of affectionate recollection. At this seat of govern- 

218 





:*& 

^-^S^;-^ 




inent, where thirty years of Mr. Webster's life were 
spent — in this Capitol, still populous with the echoes of 
his voice — to this House, of which there is not an indi- 
vidual member but can trace something of his intellectual 
wealth, or political faith, to the fountain of that mighty 
intellect — it would be useless, and worse to pass in review 
the various acts of spoken and written thought by which 
he impressed himself ineffaceably upon his time. Master 
of the great original ideas of which our social institutions 
are but the coarse material^expression ; master of a style 
which clothed each glorious thought in a garb of appropri- 
ate beauty ; possessed of a conquering nature, that, " like 
the west wind, brought the sunshine with it," and gave 
us, wherever he was, the sense of security and power, he 
has run his appointed race, and has left us to feel that our 
day of life will henceforth be more wintry now that that 
light has been withdrawn. 

" But he was ours. And may that word of pride 
Drown, with its lofty tone, pain's bitter cry !" 

I have no intention of undertaking here to measure his 
labors or interpret his ideas ; but I feel tempted to say . 
that his great field of action — the greatest which any 
statesman can have — was in undertaking to apply general 
principles to an artificial and complicated system ; to re- 
concile liberty with law ; to work out the advance of liber- 
ty and civilization through and under the rules of law and 
government ; to solve that greatest problem of human 
government, how much of the ideal may safely be let into 
the practical. 

He sought these objects, and he sought the political 
power which would enable him to carry out these objects, 

219 





and he threw into the struggle the great passions of a great 
nature — the quidquid vult valde vvlt of the elder Brutus. 
He sought, and not unsuccessfully, to throw around the 
cold impersonal idea of a constitution the halo of love 
and reverence, which, in the Old World, gathers round 
the dynasties of a thousand years ; for, in the attachment 
thus created, lie thought he saw the means of safety and 
permanence for his country. His large experience and 
broad forecast gave him notice of national dangers which 
all did not see, as the wires of the • electric telegraph 
convey news of startling import, unknown to the slum- 
bering villages through which they pass. Whether his 
fears were well or ill-founded, the future, the best guar- 
dian of his fame, will show ; but, whether well or ill- 
founded, matters nothing now to him. He has passed 
through the last and sternest trial, which he has himself, 
in anticipation, described in words never to be forgotten : 

" One may live (said he) as a conqueror, a hero, or a 
magistrate, but he must die as a man. The bed of death 
brings every human being to his pure individuality ; to 
the intense contemplation of that, the deepest and most 
solemn of all relations — the relation between the creature 
and his Creator. Here it is that fame and renown can- 
not assist us ; that all external things must fail to aid us ; 
that friends, affection, and human love and devotedness 
cannot succor us. This relation, the true foundation of 
all duty — a relation perceived and felt by conscience and 
confirmed by revelation — our illustrious friend, now de- 
ceased, always acknowledged. He reverenced the Scrip- 
ture of truth, honored the pure morality which they 
teach, and clung to the hopes of future life which they im- 
part." 



L» 



220 






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Mr. Webster died in accordance with the prevailing 

sentiment of his life, in the spirit of prayer to God, and 
of love to man. Well might the nation that watched his 
dying bed say, in the words which the greatest English 
poet applies to a legendary hero, who had also been the 
stay of his country in peril : 

Nothing is here for tears, nothing to wail 
Or knock the breast ; no weakness, no contempt, 
Dispraise or blame ; nothing but well and fair. 
And what may comfort ns in a death so noble. 

Mr. Speaker, I move the following resolves : 
Resolved, That this House concurs with the Senate in its 
expression of grief for the death of Daniel Webster, of 
respect for his memory, and of estimation of the services 



which he rendered to his country. 

Resolved. That the members of this House will wear 
crape on the left arm for the space of thirty days. 

Resolved, That the Speaker be requested to make these 
resolves known to the surviving relatives of the deceased. 

Resolved, That this House do now adjourn. 

Mr. Appleton, of Maine. 

Mr. Speaker : — I do not know that I ought to add 
any thing to what has already been said upon the resolu- 
tions before us ; yet since the death of Mr. Webster was 
a national calamity, it is fit that all classes and all parties 
in the community should unite to testify their full appre- 
ciation of it. The people themselves have admonished us 
of this, as they have gathered recently with mournful reve- 
rence around his tomb ; and we should be unworthy of 
them if, here in the Capitol, where he won so much 

I 221 

™ - ■niMnm ~" 





'^-^■^l^lj 



of his fame, we did not add our tribute to his memory. 
It is a great memory, sir, and will go down to poster- 
ity as one of the country's heir-looms, through I know not 
how many successive generations. We are not here, Mr. 
Speaker, to build his monument. He builded that for 
himself before he died ; and, had he failed to do so, none 
among us could supply the deficiency. We are here, rather, 
to recognize his labors, and to inscribe the marble with 
his name. 

That we have not all sympathized with him in his politi- 
cal doctrines, or been ready to sanction every transaction 
of his political life, need not, and, I am sure, does not, 
abate any thing from our respect for his services, or our 
regret for his loss. His character and his works — what 
he was and what he did — constitute a legacy which no 
sound-hearted American can contemplate without emotions 
of gratitude and pride. There is enough of Daniel Web- 
ster, sir, to furnish a common ground upon which all 
his countrymen can mingle their hearty tributes to his 
memory. 

He was a man to be remarked anywhere. Among a bar- 
barous people he would have excited reverence by his very 
look and mien. No one could stand before him without 
knowing that he stood in a majestic presence, and admir- 
ing those lineaments of greatness with which his Creator 
had enstamped, in a manner not to be mistaken, his 
outward form. If there ever was such an instance on 
earth, his was the appearance described by the great 
dramatist : 




The combination and the form indeed, 
Where every god did seem to set his seal, 
To give the world assurance of a man. 

222 



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No one could listen to him in his happier moments with 
out feeling his spirit stirred within him by those deep 
cathedral tones which were the fit vehicles of his grave 
and earnest thoughts. 

No one can read his writings without being struck by 
the wonderful manner in which they unite a severe sim- 
plicity of style with great warmth of fancy, and great afflu- 
ence of diction. 

We, Mr. Speaker, remember his look and his spoken 
words ; but by those who are to come after us he will be 
chiefly known through that written eloquence which is 
gathered in our public records, and enshrined among the 
pages of his published works. By these, at least, he still 
lives, and by these, in my judgment, he will continue to live 
after these pillars shall have fallen, and this Capitol shall 
have crumbled into ruin. Demosthenes has survived the 
Parthenon, and Tully still pleads before the world the 
cause of Roman culture and Roman oratory ; but there is 
nothing, it seems to me, either in Tully or in Demosthenes, 
which, for conception, or language, or elevation of senti- 
ment, can exceed some passages in the writings which re- 
main of Daniel Webster. His fame, indeed, is secure, 
for it is guarded by his own works ; and, as he himself 
said of Mr. Calhoun, "he has lived long enough — he has 
done enough, and he has done it so well, so successfully, 
so honorably, as to connect himself for all time with the 
records of his country." 

In no respect, Mr. Speaker, is this an occasion of lamen- 
tation for him. Death was not meant to be regarded as 
an evil, or else it would not come alike to all ; and about 
Mr. Webster's death there were many circumstances of 
felicity and good fortune. He died in the maturity of his 

223 




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intellect ; after long public service, and after having 
achieved a great name for himself, and a great memory for 
his country. He died at home ; his last wants supplied 
by the hands of affection ; his last hours cheered by the 
consolations of friendship ; amidst those peaceful scenes 
which he had himself assisted to make beautiful, and with- 
in hearing of that ocean anthem to which he always listened 
with emotions of gratitude and joy. He died, too, con- 
scious of the wonderful growth and prosperity and glory 
of his native land. His eloquent prayer had been an- 
swered — the prayer which he breathed forth to Providence 
at the greatest era of his life, when he stood side by side 
with Andrew Jackson, and they both contended for what 
was, in their belief, the cause of the Constitution and the 
Union. 

I pause, Mr. Speaker, at the combination of those two 
names. Andrew Jackson and Daniel Webster ! Dan- 
iel Webster and Andrew Jackson ! With the clear in- 
tellect and glorious oratory of the one, added to the intui- 
tive sagacity and fate-like will of the other, I will not ask 
what wrong is there which they could not successfully 
crush, but what right is there, rather, which could with- 
stand their united power. 

" When my eyes," he said, on that great occasion, " are 
turned to behold for the last time the sun in heaven, may I 
not see him shining on the broken and dishonored fragments 
of a once glorious Union ; on States dissevered, discordant, 
belligerent ; on a land rent with civil feuds, or drenched, it 
may be, with fraternal blood. Let their last feeble and lin- 
gering glance rather behold the gorgeous ensign of the re- 
public, now known and honored throughout the earth, still 
full high advanced, its arms and trophies streaming in their 

224 



' n 





original lustre, not a stripe erased or polluted, nor a single 
star obscured, bearing for its motto no such miserable inter- 
rogatory as ' What is all this worth ?' — nor those other 
words of delusion and folly, ' Liberty first and Union af- 
terward ;' but everywhere, spread all over in characters 
of living light, blazing on all its ample folds, as they float 
over the sea and over the land, and in every wind under 
the whole heavens, that other sentiment, dear . to every 
American heart, ' Liberty and Union, now and forever, 
one and inseparable. 7 : Sir, Mr. Webster outlived the 
crisis of 1830, and saw his country emerge in safety, also, 
from that later tempest of sectional disturbance, whose 
waters are even yet heaving with the swell of subdued, 
but not exhausted passion. He left this nation great, 
prosperous and happy ; and more than that, he left the 
Constitution and the Union in vigorous existence, under 
whose genial influences all that glory, and prosperity, and 
happiness, he knew, had been achieved. To preserve 
them, he had risked what few men have to risk — his reputa- 
tion, his good name, his cherished friendships ; and if there 
be any who doubt the wisdom of his 7th of March speech, let 
them consider the value of these treasures, and they will at 
least give him credit for patriotism and sincerity. But I 
am unwilling, Mr. Speaker, to dwell upon this portion of 
his career. The fires of that crisis have subsided ; but 
their ashes are yet warm with recent strife. What Mr. 
Webster did, and the other great men with whom he la- 
bored, to extinguish those fires, has gone into the keeping 
of history, and they have found their best reward in the 
continued safety of the republic. 

Our anxiety need not be for them. When the mariner is 
out upon the ocean, and sees, one by one, the lights of 



15 



225 



"'»« " - = ■JJBJOTP 





r~ r ~nrmi ;Sr: '""~- 



heaven go out before the rising storm, he does not ask 
what has become of those lights, or whether they shall re- 
new their lustre ; but his inquiry is, what is to become of 
me, and how am I to guide my bark in safety, after these 
natural pilots of the sky have disappeared. Yet even 
then, by consulting those calculations and directions, which 
wise and skillful men had prepared, when the light did 
shine, and there was no tempest raging upon the sea, he is 
enabled, it may be, to grope his way in safety to his de- 
sired port. And this, sir, is our consolation upon occa- 
sions like the present one. Jackson, and Calhoun, and 
Clay, and Wright, and Polk, and Woodbury, and Web- 
ster, are indeed no more ; and if all that they thought, 
and said, and did — their wise conceptions, and their heroic 
deeds, and their bright examples — were buried with them, 
how terribly deepened would now be our sense of the na- 
tion's loss, and how much less hopeful the prospects of re- 
publican liberty. But it is not so. " A superior and com- 
manding human intellect," (Mr. Webster has himself told 
us,) " a truly great man, when Heaven vouchsafes so rare 
a gift, is not a temporary flame, burning brightly for a 
while, and then giving place to returning darkness. It is 
rather a spark of fervent heat, as well as radiant light, 
with power to enkindle the common mass of human mind; 
so that when it glimmers in its own decay, and finally 
goes out in death, no night follows, but it leaves the world 
all light, all on fire, from the potent contact of its own 
spirit." No, sir, our great men do not wholly die. All 
that they achieved, worthy of remembrance, survives them. 
They live in their recorded actions ; they live in their 
bright examples ; they live in the respect and gratitude 
of mankind ; and they live in that peculiar influence, by 

226 







which one single commanding- thought, as it runs along the 
electric chain of human affairs, sets in motion still other 
thoughts and influences, in endless progression ; and thus 
makes its author an active and powerful agent in the events 
of life, long after his mortal portion shall have crumbled 
in the tomb. 

Let us thank God for this immortality of worth, and 
rejoice in every example which is given to us of what our 
nature is capable of accomplishing. Let it teach us not 
despair, but courage, and lead us to follow in its light, at 
however great a distance, and with however unequal steps. 
This is the lesson of wisdom, as well as of poetry. 

Lives of great men all remind us 

We]can make our lives sublime ; 
And departing, leave behind us 

Foot-prints on the sands of Time. 

Foot-prints, that'perhaps another, 

Sailing o'er life's solemn main, 
A forlorn and shipwrecked brother, 

Seeing, may take heart again. 

When God shall send his Angel to us, Mr. Speaker, 
bearing the scroll of death, may we be able to bow our 
heads to his mission with as much of gentleness and re- 
signation as marked the last hours of Daniel Webster. 

Mr. Preston. 

Mr. Speaker : — I have been requested, by some of the 
gentlemen who compose the delegation from my State, to 
make some remarks upon the subject of the message and 
resolutions received from the Senate, which have been laid 
upon your table this morning, in relation to the death of 
Mr. Webster. It was, in their opinion, peculiarly appro- 

227 



i« *.? 




33 ^ %>M T? LEA 




priate that Kentucky — a State so long associated with 
Massachusetts in political sympathy, as well as in recip- 
rocal admiration entertained for two of the most eminent 
men of their clay — should come forward and add her tes- 
timonial of the esteem in which she held his life and great 
public services, and the regret she experienced at the ca- 
lamity which has befallen the country. The mind natu- 
rally goes back, in looking over the great career of Dan- 
iel Webster, to the period of his birth — seventy years 
ago. In the northern part of the State of New Hampshire, 
beneath the roof of his pioneer father, the future statesman 
first drew the breath of life, and imbibed, amid its pictu- 
resque scenery and wild mountains, that freedom of 
thought, that dignity, and that intellectual health which 
left so indelible a mark upon his oratory and public career 
in after-life. No man has earned a greater reputation, in 
the present time, in forensic endeavor than Mr. Webster, 
nor any whose reputation could challenge comparison, 
unless it be one who was also born in a similar obscure 
station of life, amid the marshes of Hanover, and whose 
future led him to cross the summit of the Appalachian 
range with the great tide of population which poured from 
Virginia upon the fertile plains of Kentucky. Their des- 
tiny has been useful, great and brilliant. From that 
period to this, these celebrated contemporaries have been 
conspicuous in the career of public utility to which they 
devoted their lives, and by their intellectual superiority 
and dignified statesmanship have commanded not only the 
respect of their several States, but of the nation and of 
mankind. For forty years they swayed the councils of 
their country, and the same year sees them consigned to 
the grave. The statesman of Ashland died in this city, 




■z±jz?~-.~z r ; - 7 — ■ , r r"; ■■ , , I **ST 





before the foliage of summer was sere, and was sent, with 
the honors of his country, back to the resting-place which 
he now occupies in the home of his early adoption. The 
winds of autumn have swept the stern New-England shores 
—the shores of Plymouth, where the pilgrim fathers land- 
ed—and caught up the expiring breath of Daniel Web- 
ster as he terminated his life of honorable service. The 
dirge that the night winds now utter through the prime- 
val forests of Ashland lament for one ; the surges of the 
wintry ocean, as they beat upon the shores of Marshfield, 
are a fitting requiem to the other. 

There are two points of particular prominence in the 
life of Mr. Webster to which I will allude. All remem- 
ber the celebrated struggle of 1830. The greatest minds 
of the country, seeing the constitutional questions in- 
volved from different points of view, were embroiled in 
the controversy. The darkest apprehensions were enter- 
tained. A gallant and gifted senator from South Caro- 
lina, (General Hayne,) with a genius and fire character- 
istic of the land of his birth, had expressed the views of 
his party with great ability, and, as it was thought, with 
irresistible eloquence. The eyes of the country were di- 
rected to Webster as the Champion of the Constitution 
and the Union. Crowds of beautiful women and anxious 
men on that day thronged the other wing of this Capitol. 
What patriotic heart in the nation has yet forgotten that 
noble and memorable reply? A deep and enthusiastic 
sentiment of admiration and respect thrilled through the 
heart of the people, and even yet the triumph of that son ' 
of New England is consecrated in the memory of his coun- 
trymen. Subsequently, the Chief Magistrate of the Union, 
President Jackson, announced opinions of a similar char- 

229 



I 

n IB 




\ 




y,( SI 







i 



acter in his celebrated proclamation, and men of all parties 
felt that a new rampart had been erected for the defence 
of the Constitution. 

At a period more recent, within the remembrance of 
all, Daniel Webster again appeared in another critical 
emergency that imperilled the safety of the republic. It 
was on the Tth of March, 1850. Excited by the terri- 
torial question, the spirit of fanaticism broke forth with 
fearful violence from the North. But it did not shake his 
undaunted soul. He gazed with majestic serenity at the 
storm, and sublime in his self-reliance, as Virgil describes 
Mezentius surrounded by his enemies, 

He, like a solid rock by seas inclosed, 
To raging winds and roaring waves exposed. 
From his proud summit looking down, disdains 
Their empty menace, and unmoved remains. 

A great portion of the fame of Daniel Webster rests 
upon the events of that day, and his patriotism having 
endured the tempest, his reputation shone with fresh 
lustre after it had passed. Clay and Webster on that 
day stood linked hand-in-hand, and averted the perils tliat 
menaced their common country. In the last great act of 
their lives in the Senate, they drew closer the bonds of 
union between the North and South, like those lofty 
Cordilleras that, stretching along the Isthmus of Panama, 
bind in indissoluble bonds Northern and Southern Ameri- 
ca, and alike beat back from their rocky sides the fury of 
either ocean. These, Mr. Speaker, and gentlemen of the 
House are the memories that make us in our Western 
homes revere the names of Clay and Webster. 

The gentleman from Massachusetts, (Mr. Davis,) in his 
eloquent tribute to the genius and fame of Daniel Web- 

230 




ster, has chosen to apply to him the remark by which 
Cicero characterizes Brutus — " Quidquid vult, valdevxtlty 
If he will pardon me, I think the description applied by 
the great orator whom he has quoted to Gracchus is more 
striking : " Eloquentia quidem nescio an habuisset parem: 
grandis est verbis, sapiens sententiis, gene re toto gravis." If, 
however, a resemblance prevailed in this respect between 
Caius Gracchus and Webster, it did not in others. 
Gracchus, as we are told, was the first Roman orator 
who turned his back to the capitol and his face to the peo- 
ple ; the popular orators of Rome, anterior to that time, 
having always turned their faces to the Senate and their 
backs to the Forum. Webster never sought to subvert 
the judgment of the people by inflaming their passions. 
His sphere was among men of intellect. His power was 
in convincing the minds of the cultivated and intellectual, 
rather than by fervid harangues to sway the ignorant or 
excite the multitude. Clay — bold, brilliant and dashing, 
rushing at results with that intuition of common sense 
that outstrips all the processes of logic — always command- 
ed the heart and directed the action of his party. Web- 
ster seemed deficient in some of these great qualities, but 
surpassed him in others. He appeared his natural auxil- 
iary. Clay, the most brilliant parliamentary leader, and 
probably unequalled, save by the Earl of Chatham, whom 
he resembled, swept with the velocity of a charge of 
cavalry on the ranks of his opponents, and often won the 
victory before others were prepared for the encounter. 
Webster, with his array of facts, his power of statement, 
and logical deductions, moved forward like the disciplined 
and serried infantry, with the measured tread of deliber- 
ate resolution, and the stately air of irresistible power. 



i 






231 





Daniel Webster is dead. He died without ever hav- 
ing been elevated to the Presidency of the nation. Ca- 
millus, the second founder of Rome, never enjoyed 
the Consulate ; but he was not less illustrious be- 
cause he was not rewarded by the fasces and the 
consular purple. Before the lustre of Webster's re- 
nown, a merely presidential reputation must grow 
pale. He has not only left a reputation of unsurpassed 
lustre in the Senate, but he will also pass down to poster- 
ity as the ablest and most profound jurist of his day. As 
an orator, he had not, as has been correctly observed by 
a senator from New York, the vehemence of Demosthenes, 
nor the splendor of Cicero ; but still Daniel Webster 
was an orator — an orator marked by the characteristics of 
the Teutonic race — bold, massive, and replete with manly 
force and vigor. His writings are marked by a deep 
philosophy which will cause them to be read when the 
issues that evoked them have passed away, and the splen- 
dor of an imagination, almost as rich as that of Burke, 
will invest them with attractions alike for the political 
scholar and the man of letters. 

We should not deplore the death of Webster. It is 
true, the star has shot from the sphere it illuminated, and 
is lost in the gloom of death ; but he sank full of years 
and honors, after he had reached the verge of human life, 
and before his majestic intellect was dimmed or his body 
bowed down by old age. He did not sink into his grave, 
like Marlborough, amid the mists of dotage ; but he 
went while his intellect was unclouded, and the literary 
remembrances of his youth came thronging to the dying 
bed of their votary. Napoleon, when he was expiring at 
St. Helena, muttered disconnected words of command and 

232 




-i,'j,UMiiii;»m— ■■■ ■ t-y pj 






battle, that showed his turbulent mind still struggled in 
imaginary conflicts ; but gentler spirits brought to the 
death-bed of the statesman of Marshfield more consoling 
memories as he murmured, 

The curfew tolls the knell of parting day ; 

and all the tender and mournful beauties of that inimi- 
table elegy clustered around his soul. 

But, sir, I will not Venture to say more on this theme. 
I have said thus much in the name of my native State, to 
testify her veneration for worth, patriotism and departed 
greatness, and to add, with proper reverence, a handful of 
earth to the mound a nation raises to the memory of the 
great Secretary, and to say, Peace be to the manes of 
Webster. 



Mr. Seymour, of New York, said : 

Mr. Speaker : — I rise in support of the resolutions 
offered by the gentleman from Massachusetts, and in that 
connection propose to submit a few remarks. 

Sir, our great men are the common property of the coun- 
try. In the days of our prosperity we boast of their 
genius and enterprise as they advance the general weal. 
In the hour of a nation's peril the shadow of their great 
name is the gathering point, whither we all turn for guid- 
ance and defence ; and whether their laurels have been 
gathered on the battle-field, in sustaining our rights against 
hostile nations — in the halls of legislation, devising and 
enacting those wise and beneficent laws which, by develop- 
ing the resources, instructing the mind, and directing the 
energies of the nation, may be traced on the frame-work 
of society long after their authors have ceased to exist — 

233 



s£ : — 





or in the temple of justice or the sacred desk, regulating 
the jarring elements of civil life, and making men happier 
and better — they are all parts of one grand exhibition, 
showing, through all coming time, what the men of the 
present age and of our nation have done for the elevation 
and advancement of our race. To chronicle these results 
of human effort, and to transmit them to future ages, is the 
province of history. In her temple the great and the 
good are embalmed. There they may be seen and read by 
all those who, in future generations, shall emulate their 
great deeds. Time, whose constant flow is continually 
obliterating and changing the physical and social relations 
of all things, cannot efface the landmarks which they have 
raised along the pathway of life. The processes by which 
they attained the grand result, and the associations by 
which they at the time were surrounded, are unknown or 
forgotten, while we contemplate the monuments which 
their genius and heroism have raised. 

Who that reads the story of the battle of Marathon, by 
wdiich the liberties of Athens were rescued from Persian 
despotism, stops to inquire to what, party in that republic 
Miltiades belonged ? Who that listens to the thunders 
of Demosthenes, as he moves all Greece to resist the com- 
mon enemy, attempts to trace his political associations ? 
So it will be in the future of this republic. The battle of 
New Orleans will disclose Jackson, the hero and the pa- 
triot, saving his country from her enemies. The debates 
of the Senate Chamber will exhibit Clay, Calhoun and 
Webster illustrating and defending the great principles of 
our government by their lofty patriotism and eloquence. 
On neither picture will be observed whatever we of the pres- 
ent time may judge to have savored of the mere politician 

234 






and the partisan. We, from our near proximity, may see, 
or think we see, the ill-shapen rocks and the unseemly 
caverns which disfigure the sides of these mighty Alpine 
peaks. Future ages will only descry their ever-gilded 
summits. 

Who, then, shall lightly say that Fame 

Is but an empty name ? 

When/but for these our mighty dead, 

All ages past a blank would be, 
Sunk in Oblivion's murky bed — 

A desert bare — a shipless sea. 
They are the distant objects seen, 
The lofty marks of what hath been ; 

Where memory of the mighty dead, 
To earth-worn pilgrims' wistful eye 

The brightest rays of cheering shed 
That point to immortality. 

Sir, I shall not attempt here to even briefly review the 
public life or delineate the true character of Daniel Web- 
ster. That public life, extending through more than forty 
years of the growth and progress of our country, will 
doubtless "be sketched by those of his compeers who have 
shared with him in his public service. That character, 
too, wfll best be drawn by those intimate friends who 
knew him best, and who enjoyed the most favorable 
opportunities for observing the operations of his giant 
mind. 

In looking at what he has achieved, not only in the fields 
of legislation, but in those of literature and jurisprudence, 
I may say he has left a monument of his industry and 
genius of which his countrymen may well be proud. His 
speeches in the Senate and before the assemblies of the 
people, and his arguments before our highest courts, taken 

235 



m 



^« 








together, form the most valuable contribution to American 
literature, language and oratory which it has been the 
good fortune of any individual to have yet made. Were 
I to attempt it, I should be unable to determine on which 
of the varied scenes of his labors his genius and talents 
stood pre-eminent. 

His argument in the Dartmouth College case has ever 
been regarded as a model of forensic debate, exhibiting 
the rare combination of the dry logic of the law with the 
tender, the beautiful and the sublime. His address before 
the Historical Society of New York not only exhibited a 
thorough acquaintance with ancient and modern litera- 
ture, but was itself a gem whose brilliancy will never 
cease to attract, even by the side of the great lights, of the 
literary world. The speech in the Senate in reply to 
Haynb, by its powerful argumentation, its sublimity and 
patriotic fervor, placed him at once, by the common con- 
sent of mankind, in the front rank of orators. 

But I cannot, on this occasion, review a life replete with 
incidents at once evincing the workings of a great mind, 
and marking important events in the history of the coun- 
try. I can here only speak of his labors collectively. They 
were the result of great effort— grand in their concep- 
tion, effective in their execution, and permanent in their 
influences. 

As a son of his native New England, I am proud to re- 
fer back to the plain and unostentatious manners, the rigid 
discipline, and the early and thorough mental training, to 
be found among the yeomanry of that part of our coun- 
try, as contributing primarily to the eminent success of 
Mr. Webster in the business of his life. Born, reared and 
educated among the granite hills of New-Hampshire, al- 

236 




though his attachments to the place of his birth were strong 
to the last, yet, upon the broad theatre upon which he was 
called to act his part as a public man, his sympathies and 
his patriotism were bounded only by the confines of the 
whole republic. 

Although, in common with many of us, I differed in 
opinion from the late Secretary of State upon grave politi- 
cal questions, yet, with the great mass of our fellow-citi- 
zens, I acknowledge his patriotism, and the force and 
ability with which he sustained his own opinions. How- 
ever we may view those opinions, one thing will be con- 
ceded by all : his feelings were thoroughly American, and 
his aim the good of his country. In his whole public life, 
and by his greatest efforts as an orator, he has left deeply 
impressed on the American mind one great truth, never 
to be forgotten — the preservation of American liberty de- 
pends upon the support of the Constitution and the Union of 
the States. To have thus linked his name indissolubly 
with the perpetuity of our institutions is enough of glory 
for any citizen of the republic. 

Mr. Chandler said : 
Mr. Speaker -.—The selection of the present time to 
make special and official reference to the death of Mr. 
Webster may be regarded as fortunate and judicious. An 
earlier moment would have exposed our eulogies to those 
exaggerations which, while they do justice in some mea- 
sure to the feelings whence they spring, are no proofs of 
sound judgment in the utterer, nor sources of honor to 
their lamented object. The great departed owe little to 
the record of their worth, which is made in the midst of 
sudden emotions, when the freshness of personal inter- 

237 






course mingles with recollections of public virtues: and the 
object, observed through the tears of recent sorrow, bears 
with it the prismatic hues which distort its fair propor- 
tions, and hide that simplicity which is the characteristic 
of true greatness. And equally just is it to the dead 
whom we would honor, and to our feelings which would 
promote that honor, that we have not postponed the 
season to a period when time would so have mitigated our 
just regret as to direct our eulogies only to those lofty 
points of Mr. Webster's character which strike but from 
afar ; which owe their distinction less to their affinities 
with public sympathy than to their elevation above ordi- 
nary ascent, and ordinary computation. 

That distance, too, in a government like ours, is danger- 
ous to a just homage to the distinguished dead, however 
willing may be the survivor ; for smaller objects inter- 
vene, and by proximity hide the proportions which we 
survey from afar, and diminish that just appreciation which 
is necessary to the honorable praise that is to perpetuate 
public fame. 

Mr. Webster was a distinguished statesman, tried, sir, 
in nearly all the various positions which, in our government, 
the civilian is called on to fill; and in all these places the 
powers of a gifted mind, strengthened and improved by a 
practical education, were the great means by which he 
achieved success, and patriotism the motive of their devo- 
tion. With all Mr. Webster's professional greatness, 
with all his unrivalled powers in the Senate, with his 
great distinction as a diplomatist, he was fond of credit as 
a scholar ; and his attainments, if not of the kind which 
gives eminence to merely literary men, were such as gave 
richness and terseness to his own composition, and vigor 



238 




SE 



and attraction to his conversation. His mind was moulded 
to the strong conception of the epic poet, rather than the 
gentle phrase of the didactic ; and his preference for 
natural scenery seemed to partake of his literary taste — it 
was for the strong, the elevated, the grand. His childhood 
and youth joyed in the rough sides of the mountains of 
New Hampshire, and his age found a delightful repose on 
the wild shores of Massachusetts bay. He was a lover of 
Nature, not in her holiday suit of field and flower, but in 
those wild exhibitions of broken coasts and isolated hills, 
that seem to stir the mind into activity, and provoke it 
into emulation of the grandeur with which it is surround- 
ed. Yet, sir, Mr. Webster had with him much of the 
gentleness which gives beauty to social life, and dignity 
and attraction to the domestic scene, just as the rugged 
coast is often as placid as the gentlest lake, and the sum- 
mit of the roughest hill is frequently bathed in the softest 
sunlight, and clad in flowers of the most delicate hues. 
Mr. Webster's person was strongly indicative of the char- 
acter of his mind ; not formed for the lighter graces, but 
graceful in the noblest uses of manhood ; remarkable in 
the stateliness of its movements, and dignified in the mag- 
nificence of its repose. Mr. Webster could scarcely pass 
unnoticed, even where unknown. There was that in his 
mien which attracted attention and awakened interest ; 
and his head (whether his countenance was lighted by a 
smile, such as only he could give, or fixed by contempla- 
tion, such as only he could indulge) seemed an 

arcli'd and ponderous roof, 




By its own weight made steadfast and immovable, 
Looking tranquility ! 

With all Mr. Webster's lofty gifts and attainments, he 

239 



sffe^ 






^%%HJ3iK< 



was ambitious. Toiling upward from the base of the po- 
litical ladder, it is not to be denied that he desired to set 
his foot upon the upmost round. This could not have been 
a thirst for power ; nothing of a desire for the exercise of 
absolute authority could have been in that aspiration ; for 
the only absolute power left (if any be left) by the Consti- 
tution in the Executive of this nation is " mercy." In Mr. 
Webster it was the distinction which the place conferred, 
and the sphere of usefulness it presented. He regarded it 
as the crowning glory of his public life— a glory earned 
by his devotion of unparalleled talents and unsurpassed 
statesmanship. This ambition in Mr. Webster was mod- 
esty. He could not see, as others saw and felt, that no 
political elevation was necessary to the completion of his 
fame or the distinction of his statesmanship. It was not 
for him to understand that the last round of political pre- 
ferment, honorable as it is, and made more honorable by 
the lustre which purity of motive, great talents and de- 
voted patriotism are now shedding down upon it — he could 
not understand that preferment, honorable' as it is, was 
unnecessary to him ; that it could add nothing to his po- 
litical stature, nor enlarge the horizon of his comprehen- 
sive views. It is the characteristic of men of true great- 
ness, of exalted talents, to comprehend the nature and 
power of the gifts they possess. That, sir, is an homage 
to God, who bestows them. But it is also their misfortune 
to be dissatisfied with the means and opportunities they 
have possessed to exercise those great gifts to great na- 
tional purposes. This is merely distrust of themselves. 
The world, sir, comprehends the uses of the talents of great 
statesmen, and gives them credit for their masterly powers, 




240 



JfflUlMIIIMMUH — Jllll ml 



ui.i«ii,a.,n.T..^ lr j™^— — 



%^£#l 





without asking" that those powers should be tried in every 
position in which public men may be placed. 

I see not in all the character, gifts and attainments of 
Mr. Webster any illustration of the British orator's ex- 
clamation, relative to " the shadows which we are ;" nor do I 
discover in the splendid career and the aims of his lofty am- 
bition any thing to prove " what shadows we pursue." 

The life of such a man as Daniel Webster is one of 
solid greatness ; and the objects he pursued are worthy of 
a being made in the image of God. A life of honorable 
distinction is a substantive and permanent object. The 
good of man, and the true glory and happiness of his 
country, are the substantial things, the record of which 
generation hands down to generation, inscribed with the 
name of him that pursued them. 

I will not, sir, trespass on this House by any attempt to 
sketch the character or narrate the services of Mr. Web- 
ster ; too many will have a share in this day's exercises 
to allow one speaker so extensive a range. It is enough 
for me, if, in obeying the indications of others, I give to my 
effort the tone of respect with which the statesman and 
the patriot, Webster, was regarded, as well by the nation 
at large as by those whom I have the honor to represent 
on this floor. And in the remarks of those whose means 
of judging have been better than mine, will be found his 
characteristics of social and domestic life. 

How keenly Mr. Webster relished the relaxations 
which public duty sometimes allowed, I had an opporimity 
of judging ; for he loved to call to my recollections scen- 
ery which had been familiar to me in childhood, as it was 
lovely to him in age. The amusements, in which he grati- 
fied a manly taste in the midst of that scenery, were pro- 
motive of physical recuperation, rendered necessary by the 



16 



241 




© 







heavy demands of professional or official life. He was 
stimulated to thought by the activity which the pursuits 
on land required, or led to deep contemplation by the 
calmness of the ocean on which he rested. Though dying 
in office, Mr. Webster was permitted to breathe his last 
in those scenes made classical to others by his uses; and 
dear to him by their ministrations to, and correspondence 
with, his taste. 

The good of his country undoubtedly occupied the last 
moments of his ebbing life ; but those moments were not 
disturbed by the immediate pressure of official duties ; and 
in the dignity of domestic quiet he passed onward ; and 
while at a distance communities awaited in grief and awe 
the signal of his departure, the deep diapason of the At- 
lantic wave, as it broke upon his own shore, was a fitting 
requiem for such a parting spirit. 

Mr. Bayly, of Virginia, remarked : 

I had been, sir, nearly two years a member of Congress 
before I made Mr. Webster's acquaintance. About that 
time a proceeding was instituted here, of a delicate char- 
acter, so far as he was concerned, and incidentally con- 
cerning an eminent constituent and friend of mine. This 
circumstance first brought me into intercourse with Mr. 
Webster. Subsequently, I transacted a good deal of 
official business with him, some of it also of a delicate char- 
acter. I thus had unusual opportunities of forming an 
opinion of the man. The acquaintance I made with him, 
the circumstances to which I have referred, ripened 
> friendship. It is to these circumstances that I, a po- 
al opponent, am indebted for the honor, as I esteem 
, of having been requested to say something on this oc- 
asion. 

212 






From my early manhood, of course, sir, I have been well 
acquainted with Mr. Webrter's public character, and I 
had formed my ideal of him as a man ; and what a mis- 
conception of it was that ideal ! Rarely seeing him in 
public places, in familiar intercourse with his friends, con- 
templatiug his grave statue-like appearance in the Senate 
and[the Forum, I had formed the conception that he was a 
frigid iron bound man, whom few could approach without 
constraint ; and I undertake to say that — until of late 
years, in which, through personal sketches of him by his 
friends, the public has become acquainted with his private 
character — such was the idea most persons, who knew him 
only as I did, formed of him. Yet, sir, what a miscon- 
ception ! No man could appreciate Mr. Webster who did 
not know him privately. No man could appreciate him 
who did not see him in familiar intercourse with his friends, 
and especially around his own fireside and table. There, 
sir, he was confiding, gay, and sometimes downright boy- 
ish. Full of racy anecdotes, he told them in the most cap- 
tivating manner. 

Who that ever heard his description of men and things 
can ever forget them ? Mr. Webster, sir, attached a pe- 
culiar meaning to the word talk, and in his sense of the 
term he liked to talk ; and who that ever heard him talk 
can forget that talk ? Sometimes it was the most playful 
wit, then the most pleasing philosophy. Mr. Webster, sir, 
owed his greatness, to a large extent, to his native gifts. 

Among his contemporaries there were lawyers more 
learned, yet he was, by common consent, assigned the first 
place at the American bar. As a statesman, there were 
those more thoroughly informed than he, yet what states- 
man ranked him ? Among orators there were those more 
graceful and impressive, yet what orator was greater than 

243 


















There were scholars more ripe, yet who wrote better 
English ? The characteristics of his mind were massive 
strength and classic beauty, combined with a rare felicity. 
His favorite studies, if I may judge from his conversations, 
were the history and constitution of his own country, and 
the history and the constitution of England ; and I un- 
dertake to say that there is not now a man living who 
was more perfectly familiar with both. His favorite 
amusements, too, if I may judge in the same way, were 
held-sports and out-door exercise. I have frequently heard 
Mr. Webster say, if he had been a merchant, he would 
have been an out-door partner. Mr. Webster was, as all 
great men are, eminently magnanimous. As proof of this, 
see his whole life, and especially that crowning act of mag- 
nanimity — his letter to Mr. Dickinson. Mr. Webster 
had no envy or jealousy about him — as no great man ever 
had. Conscious of his own powers, he envied those of 
no one else. Mr. Calhoun and himself entered public 
life about the same time ; each of them strove for the first 
honors of the republic. They were statesmen of rival 
schools. They frequently met. in the stern encounter of 
debate, and when they met the conflict was a conflict of 
giants. Yet how delightful it was to hear Mr. Webster 
speak, as I have heard him speak, in the most exalted terms 
of Calhoun ; and how equally delightful it was to hear Mr. 
Calhoun, as I have heard him, speak in like terms of Web- 
ster. On one occasion Mr. Calhoun, speaking to me of 
the characteristics of Webster as a debater, said that he 
was remarkable in this — that he always stated the argu- 
ment of his antagonist fairly, and boldly met it. He said 
he had even seen him state the argument of his opponent 
more forcibly than his opponent had stated it himself ; and, 
if he could not answer it, he would never undertake to 

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weaken it by misrepresenting it. What a compliment was 
this, coming, as it did, from his great rival in constitu- 
tional law ! I have also heard Mr. Calhoun say that 
Mr. Webster tried to aim at truth more than any states- 
man of his day. 

A short time since, Mr. Speaker, when addressing the 
House, at the invitation of the delegation of Kentucky, on 
the occasion of Mr. Clay's death, I used this language : 

" Sir, it is but a short time since the American Con- 
gress buried the first one that went to the grave of that 
great triumvirate, (Calhoun.) We are now called upon 
to bury another, (Clay.) The third, thank God ! still 
lives; and long may he live to enlighten his countrymen 
by his wisdom, and set them the example of exalted pa- 
triotism. [Alas ! how little did I think, when I uttered 
these words, that my wish was so soon to be disappointed.] 
Sir, in the lives and characters of these great men there 
is much resembling those of the great triumvirate of the 
British Parliament. It differs principally in this : Burke 
preceded Fox and Pitt to the tomb. W t ebster survives 
Clay and Calhoun. When Fox and Pitt died, they left 
no peer behind them. Webster still lives, now that Cal- 
houn and Clay are dead, the unrivalled statesman of his 
country. Like Fox and Pitt, Clay and Calhoun lived 
in troubled times. Like Fox and Pitt, they were each 
of them the leader of rival parties. Like Fox and Pitt, 
they were idolized by their respective friends. Like Fox 
and Pitt, they died about the same time and in the pub- 
lic service ; and, as has been said of Fox and Pitt, Clay 
and Calhoun died with 'their harness upon them.' Like 
Fox and Pitt — 

With more than mortal powers endowed, 
How high they soar'd above the crowd ; 

245 






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Theirs was no common party race, 

Jostling by dai-k intrigue for place — 

Like fabled gods, their mighty war 

Shook realms and nations in its jar. 

Beneath each banner, proud to stand, 

Looked up the noblest of the land. 
***** * 

Here let their discord with them die. 

Speak not for those a separate doom 

Whom fate made brothers in the tomb ; 

But search the land of living men, 

Where wilt thou find their like again ?" 

I may reproduce, on this occasion, with propriety, what 
I then said, with the addition of the names of Burke and 
Webster. The parallel, that I undertook to run on that 
occasion, by the aid of a poet, was not designed to be per- 
fect, yet it might be strengthened by lines from another 
poet. For though Webster's enemies must admit, as 
Burke's satirist did, that — 

Too fond of the right to pursue the expedient, 

yet, what satirist, with the last years of W t ebster's life 
before him, will undertake to shock the public sentiment 
of America by saying, as was unjustly said of Burke by 
his satirist — 

Born for the universe, he narrowed his mind, 
And to party gave up what was meant for mankind. 

Mr. Speaker, during the brief period I have served with 
you in this House, what sad havoc has Death made among 
the statesmen of our republic ! Jackson, Wright, Polk, 
McDuffie and Sergeant, in private life, and Woodbury, 
from the bench, have gone to the tomb ! We have buried 
in that short time Adams, Calhoun, Taylor and Clay, 
and we are now called on to pay the last tribute of our 
respect to the memory of Daniel Webster. Well may I 
ask, in the language of the poem already quoted — 

Where wilt thou find their like again ? 
246 



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There was little, I fear, in the history of the latter day! 
of some of those great men to whom I have alluded, 
inspire the young men of our country to emulate them 
in the labors and sacrifices of public life. Yet there 
never was a time when there was a stronger obligation of 
patriotic duty on us to emulate them in that respect than 
now. 

They followed one race of revolutionary statesmen — 
they were the second generation of statesmen of our coun- 
try. With one or two brilliant exceptions, that second 
generation has passed away, and those that now have 
charge of public affairs, with -the exceptions referred to, 
are emphatically new men. God grant we have pa- 
triotism to follow faithfully in the footsteps of those who 
preceded us ! 



Mr. Stanley said : 

Mr. Speaker : — I feel that it is proper and becoming in 
me, as the representative of a people who claim the repu- 
tation of Daniel Webster as part of their most valuable 
property, to add a few words to what has been already 
said. I do not think that it is necessary to his fame to do 
so. I have no idea of attempting a eulogy on Daniel 
Webster. It would be presumptuous to attempt it. Long- 
before my entrance into public life, I heard from an illus- 
lustrious citizen of my native State, (the late Judge Gas- 
ton,) that Mr. Webster, who was his contemporary in Con- 
gress, gave early indication of the wonderful abilities which 
he afterward displayed. There were giants in the land 
in those days, and by them Webster was regarded as one 
who would earn great distinction. Before he had reached 
the height of his fame the young men in our land had been 
taught to respect him. This was the feeling of those who 

247 



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came forward on the stage of life with me. In what lan- 
guage, then, can I express my admiration of those splendid 
abilities which have delighted and instructed his country- 
men, and charmed the lovers of republican government 
throughout the ear ih ? How shall I find fitting terms to 
speak of his powers of conversation — his many good quali- 
ties in social life — his extraordinary attainments — his ex- 
alted patriotism ? Sir, I shrink from the task. 

Gifted men from the pulpit, eloquent senators at home 
and in the Senate, orators in Northern and Southern and 
Western States, have gratified the public mind by doing 
honor to his memory. To "follow in a path trodden by 
so many superior men requires more boldness than I pos- 
sess. But I cannot forbear to say that we North Caroli- 
nians sympathize with Massachusetts in her loss. We claim 
him as our Webster, as we do the memories of her great 
men of the revolution. Though he has added glory to the 
bright name of Massachusetts, he has been the defender of 
that Constitution which has surrounded, with impregnable 
bulwarks, the invaluable blessings of civil liberty. When 
he made Massachusetts hearts throb with pride that she 
had such a man to represent her in the councils of the 
nation, we, too, felt proud at her joy, for her glory is our 
glory. 

Fanueil Hall is in Boston, and Boston in Massachusetts; 
but the fame of those whose eloquence from those walls 
fanned tbe fire of liberty in the hearts of American pa- 
triots, and made tyrants tremble on their thrones, is the 
fame of the American people. 

Fanueil Hall ! Daniel Webster ! What glorious as- 
sociations do these words recall ! 

The American patriot who hereafter performs his pil- 
grimage to that time-honored hall, and looks at his. por- 

24S 




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Sl- 








1 



trait, appropriately placed there, will involuntarily repeat- I ( jh 
what the poet said of the Webster of poets : 



Here Nature listening stood, while Shakspeare play'd, 
And wondered at the work herself had made. 



Daniel Webster was, to the revolutionary patriots of 
Massachusetts, to the founders of our Constitution in the 
Old Thirteen States, what Homer was to the ancient 
heroes. Their deeds would have lived without him. 
Their memories would have been cherished by their 
countrymen had Webster never spoken. But who can 
say that his mighty ability, his power of language, un- 
equalled throughout the world — who can say he has not 
embalmed their memories, painted their deeds in beautiful 
drapery, and by the might of his genius held them up in 
captivating form to his countrymen ? Who is there on the 
habitable globe, wherever man is struggling for freedom, 
wherever Washington's name is heard and reverenced— 
who is there who will ever read the history of those immor- 
tal men who achieved our liberties, and founded with al- 
most supernatural wisdom our Constitution and republi- 
can form of government — who can ever read the history 
of these great men without saying, they achieved much, 
they performed great and noble deeds, but Webster's ora- 
tory has emblazoned them to the world, and erected monu- 
ments to their memories more enduring than marble ? 
Can man aspire to higher honor than to have his name 
associated with such men ? This honor, by universal con- 
sent, Daniel Webster, the son of a New Hampshire far- 
mer, has secured. Wherever liberty is prized on earth, 
in whatever quarter of the globe the light of our " great 
republic " is seen, sending its cheering beams to the heart 
of the lonely exile of oppression — in that land and to that 

249 



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heart will the name of Webster be held in grateful re- 
membrance. As we cannot think of the founders of our 
republic without thinking of Webster, we cannot speak 
of his services, properly, except in his own words. How 
many of us, in and out of Congress, since his death, have 
recalled his memorable words, in his eulogium on Adams 
and Jefferson. Hear him in that discourse : 

" Adams and Jefferson, I have said, are no more. As 
human beings, indeed, they are no more. They are no 
more, as in 1776, bold and fearless advocates of indepen- 
dence ; no more, as on subsequent periods, the head of the 
government ; no more as we have recently seen them, 
aged and venerable objects of admiration and regard. 
They are no more. They are dead. But how little is 
there of the great and good which can die ! To their 
country they yet live, and live forever. They live in all 
that perpetuates the remembrance of men on earth ; in 
the recorded proofs of their great actions ; in the offspring 
of their intellect ; in the deep and grave lines of public 
gratitude, and in the respect and homage of mankind. 
They live in their example ; and they live, emphatically, 
and will live, in the influence which their lives and efforts, 
their principles and opinions, now exercise, and will 
continue to exercise on the affairs of men, not only in 
their country, but throughout the civilized world. A 
superior and commanding human intellect, a truly great 
man, when Heaven vouchsafes so rare a gift, is not a tem- 
porary flame, burning bright for awhile, and then expir- 
ing, giving place to returning darkness. It is rather a 
spark of fervent heat as well as radiant light, wi,th power 
to enkindle the common mass of human mind ; so that 
when it glimmers in its own decay, and finally goes out 
in death, no night follows, but it leaves the world all 

230 




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light, all on fire, from the potent contact of its own spirit. 
Bacon died, but the human understanding, roused by the 
touch of his miraculous wand to a perception of the true 
philosophy and the just mode of inquiring after truth, has 
kept on its course, successfully and gloriously. Newton 
died, yet the courses of the spheres are still known, and 
they yet move on in the orbits which he saw, and described 
for them in the infinity of space/' 

Who can feel these words without feeling how appro- 
priate and applicable to the great American statesman ? 
To the country he " still lives," and will live forever. 

Mr. Speaker, I fear to go on. The thoughts which are 
in my mind are not worthy of the great subject. I have 
read and heard so much from the able, learned and elo- 
quent of our land in his praise, I shrink from attempting 
to add any thing more . 

In justice to the feelings of those I represent, I felt so- 
licitous to cast my pebble on the pile which was erecting 
to his memory. They venerate his memory, not only for 
those services to which I have referred, but also for his 
later exhibitions of patriotism, in stemming the torrent 
of temporary excitement at home. The year 1852, Mr. 
Speaker, will long be memorable in the annals of our 
country. In this year three great lights of our age and 
our country have gone out. But a few months since, the 
voice of lamentation was heard from the Atlantic to the 
Pacific shore, that Henry Clay was no more. The sounds 
of sorrow had scarcely died in our ears, when inexorable 
Death, striking with remorseless hand at the cottage of 
the peasant and the palace of the great — Death, as if to 
send terror to our souls by showing us that the greatest in 
place and in genius are but men — has destroyed all that 
was mortal of Daniel Webster. 

251 







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And even while we were celebrating his obsequies, the 
sagacious statesman, the wise counsellor, the pure and up- 
right man, John Sergeant, of Pennsylvania — the man 
who more happily combined the suaviter in modo with the 
fortiter in re than any public man I ever met with — the 
model of that best of all characters, a Christian gentle- 
man, always loving " whatsoever things are true, honest 
just, lovely and of good report," — John Sergeant is called 
to that beatific vision reserved for " the pure in heart." 

Let it be our pleasure, as it will be our duty, to teach 
those who come after us to imitate the private virtues, re- 
member the public services, and cherish the reputation of 
these illustrious men. And while we do this, let us cher- 
ish, with grateful remembrance and honest pride, the 
thought that these great men were not only lovers of liber- 
ty, friends of republican institutions, and patriots devoted 
to the service of their country, but that they were, with 
sincere conviction, believers in the Christian religion. 
Without this praise, the Corinthian column of their char- 
acters would be deprived at once of the chief ornament of 
its capitol and the solidity of its base. 

I fervently hope the lessons we have had of the certain- 
ty of death will not be lost upon us. May they make us 
less fond of the pleasures of this world, so rapidly pass- 
ing away ! May they cause those who are in high places 
of trust and honor to remember, now in the days of health, 
manhood and prosperity, that 

The boast of heraldry, the pomp of power, 
And all that beauty, all that wealth e'er gave, 
Await alike th' inevitable hour — 
The paths of glory lead but to the grave ! 

Mr. Taylor, of Ohio, said : 
Mr. Speaker : — In the Congress of 1799, when the an- 

252 





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noimcement of the death of General Washington was 
made in this body, appropriate resolutions were passed to 
express the high appreciation of the representatives of the 
people of the pre-eminent public services of the Father of 
his Country, and profound grief for their loss. His death 
was considered a great national calamity ; and in the beau- 
tiful and appropriate language of General Henry Lee, 
who prepared the resolutions introduced by John Mar- 
shall, he was proclaimed as having been " First in war, 
first in peace, and first in the hearts of his countrymen." 
The whole nation cordially responded to that sentiment ; 
and from that day to this, the high eulogium has been 
adopted by the people of the United States of America, as 
the just and expressive tribute to the greatest man, take 
him all in all, that our country had then or has since pro- 
duced. Time rolled on, and the sentiment of his own 
country has, of late years, become the intelligent opinion 
of the whole world. And in proof of this I might cite, 
among others, the deliberately recorded opinions of the 
late Premier Guizot, of France, and the great, though ec- 
centric writer and statesman, Brougham, of England, men 
of vast celebrity. 

Our country, then in its infancy, has grown up, in little 
more than half a century, to be the first republic in the 
world, having increased from three or four millions to 
nearly twenty-five millions of inhabitants, and extending 
from the Atlantic to the Pacific Ocean. During the pres- 
ent year the nation has been called upon to mourn the 
death of two of her distinguished citizens ; two men born 
since the establishment of our independence, cradled in 
the Revolution, and brought up, as it were, at the feet of 
the fathers of the republic, whose long public career has 
attracted to them, and all that concerned them, more than 

253 











to any others, the admiration, the gratitude, and the hope 
of the whole people. These men — Heney Clay and Daniel 
Webster — have both been gathered to their fathers dur- 
ing the present year. When, during our last session, the 
official announcement was made in this house of the death 
of Henry Clay, I listened with heart-felt sympathy to the 
eloquent and beautiful eulogies then pronounced upon his 
character, and felt, in the fullness of my heart, the truest 
grief. As one of the representatives of the great and pros- 
perous State of Ohio, on this floor, I desired then to 
mingle my humble voice with those who eagerly sought to 
honor his memory. But no opportunity was afforded me, 
and I could only join with meekness of spirit and a bowed 
mind in the appropriate funeral honors which were ren- 
dered to the illustrious dead, by Congress. And I only 
now desire to say, that no State in the Union, not even 
his own beloved Kentucky, more deeply felt the great loss 
which, in the death of Mr. Clay, the nation had sus- 
tained, than the State of Ohio ; and the public meetings 
of her citizens, without distinction of party, in the city in 
which I reside, and many other parts of the State ex- 
pressed, in appropriate and feeling terms, their high esti- 
mate of his great public services, and their profound grief 
for his death. 

And now, sir, since the adjournment of Congress, at its 
last session, he who co-operated with Mr. Clay in the 
legislative and executive departments, at various times, 
for nearly forty years, and to whom, with his great com- 
patriot, more than to any other, the people looked for 
counsel, and for security and peace — he, too, has paid the 
debt of nature, and will never more be seen among men. 
The formal announcement, in this body, of the death of 
Daniel Webster has elicited just and eloquent tributes 

254 






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to his memory, and Tarings freshly to our view the beau-j 
tiful traits of his private character, and his great and 
long-continued public services in the Senate and in one of 
the executive departments of the government. In all that 
is said in commendation of the private virtues and pre- 
eminent public services of Daniel Webster, I heartily 
concur ; and I wish, sir, that I could find words sufficient- 
ly strong and appropriate to express what, in my judg- 
ment, were the great claims of these two eminent men 
upon the admiration and upon the gratitude of their coun- 
trymen. They were, in many respects, exemplars for the 
young men of our country. Born (without any of the ad- 
vantages conferred sometimes by wealth and position) in 
humble life ; struggling with adversities in their earlier 
years ; triumphing over all obstacles by their native 
strength of intellect, by their genius, and by their perse- 
vering industry and great energy, they placed themselves 
in the very first rank of American statesmen, and for more 
than forty years were the great leaders of the American 
mind, and among the brightest guardians of their common 
country. 

Sir, it was my good fortune to have known, for many 
years, both these great patriots, and to have enjoyed their 
friendship ; and I think that I but express the general 
sentiment of the intelligent people of this great country 
when I say that our country is, in a very large degree, in- 
debted to them for its present unexampled prosperity; for 
its peace and domestic happiness, and for its acknowledged 
power and high renown all over the world. In my judg- 
ment, the words of the national legislature, so beautifully 
and aptly embodying the true character of the Father of 
his Country, were not more appropriately uttered then in 
reference to him than they might be applied now, so far 

255 






as relates to the civil affairs and action of our government, 
within the last forty years, to Henry Clay and Daniel 
Webster ; and it may be properly said of them that with- 
in that time they have been, emphatically, " First in war, 
first in peace, and first in the hearts of their countrymen." 
But, sir, the great men of a country must die ; and, if 
the great men of a country are pre-eminently good men, 
their loss is the more severely felt. Nothing human is 
perfect ; and I am far from believing, much less from as- 
serting, that the eminent men of whom I have spoken were 
without defects of character. But I believe their virtues 
so far outweighed the imperfections of their nature, that 
to dwell upon such defects, on this occasion, would be as 
unprofitable and futile as to object to the light, and heat, 
and blessings of the glorious sun, guided by the Omnipo- 
tent hand, because an occasional shadow or spot may be 
seen on his disk. These guardians of our country have 
passed away ; but their works and good examples are left 
for our guidance, and are part of the lasting and valued 
possessions of this nation. And, Mr. Speaker, 

When the bright guardians of a country die, 
The grateful tear in tenderness will start ; 

And the keen anguish of a reddening .eye 
Disclose the deep affliction of the heart. 

The question was put on the adoption of the resolutions 
proposed by Mr. . Davis, and they were unanimously 
adopted. 



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